


The Rupture

by sandean_cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Archangel Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Basically, Break Up, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Castiel Leaves (Supernatural), Castiel Whump (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Fight, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel is Not Okay (Supernatural), Castiel is So Done (Supernatural), Castiel is So Done with Dean Winchester, Coda, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean Winchester as Death, Dean Winchester as the Cage, Dean Winchester in the Ma'lak Box, Dean Winchester is Not Amused, Dean Winchester is Scarred for Life, Drunk Dean Winchester, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Roller Coaster, Episode: s02e08 Thelma and Louise, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Guardian Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Heartbreak, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Ma'lak Box (Supernatural), Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Pain, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Quote: Angels are watching over you. (Supernatural), Quote: I'll just wait here then. (Supernatural: The End), Sam Winchester is God, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Song: Knockin' on Heaven's Door, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Time is Fluid, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-01-03 04:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 29,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandean_cas/pseuds/sandean_cas
Summary: “I think it’s time for me to move on.” Everyone leaves.A calliope of sound bombards him.So much for ‘we are real.’ So much for them.Maybe they could have fixed things. He knew they’d both done things and said things. There hadn’t been time to think about what he feels… to separate emotion from adrenaline.  But the angel had decided it was too late. He’d decided it was too late just like he’d decided not to tell them about Jack… when he decided to change the plan.Maybe this is for the best. But…Every receding footstep thuds like a nail.Clang.Clang.Against the metal stair case that leads to the door.‘Welcome to the end.’Nailing him to his coffin.-He can move on.But his feet remain rooted to the dirt outside the bunker door; the home that was never really his.After thousands of years he can tell when something is broken... and yet, he’d stood in the glass, bleeding out for far too long.The moon shone brightly, the insects chirped and the world carried on once more… utterly oblivious to how close it had been to ending.Castiel walks away numbly yet all too raw. The earth may be fine but his world had just imploded.





	1. Nails In My Coffin

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story:   
I saw Misha's post about there being laughs at the end... and like a fool, I believed him. So cheers to being extra traumatized at the end.

Why is bring this up now. They had finally done it. At the cost of yet another friend but what else was new. Sam is wreck and Dean has to find a way to get things back to normal. Their normal least.

Now Cass is here. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t even really understand what he’s saying. He hears his mouth moving, lashing out and he wants to not care. But that was always his problem.

“… you don’t hear it. You don’t care. I’m dead to you. You still blame me for Mary.” He does. Of course he does. Cass had lied to them _again_!

The last time his mother died he spent over two decades hunting and killing every monster involved. He was on a crusade: death. Now Cass had all but killed her. How was he supposed to let that go? He should hate him. He should have killed him. But Dean can’t do that… then he’ll really be alone.

“Well, I don’t think there is anything left to be said.” Castiel says, defeated.

Dean feels his shoulders fall. He agrees. They just need some time for everything to get back to normal. Dean raises his eyes from his drink as Castiel turns away.

“Where are you going?” Dean knows. He’s abandoning them. The angel doesn’t want to try anymore. He doesn’t care. Dean had pushed and pushed and Cass had fallen over the edge of no return. The one person he’d trusted as much as Sam… who let himself be weak with… Cass was leaving too. Like he always does.

“Jack’s dead. Chuck’s gone. You and Sam have each other.” The words echo past Dean, blurring and distorting on their way. He doesn’t believe this. What they had come to. It’s so much worse than the future Zachariah had dropped him into. So much worse. He’d let Cass get to close and he’d disappointed him, just as that Cass had disappointed future Dean. It always comes to this.

Dean knows when he’s at fault. He knows how he’s been acting. But Cass should understand… if nothing else, the angel always understands him.

“I think it’s time for me to move on.” Everyone leaves.

A calliope of sound bombards him.

So much for ‘we are real.’

So much for them.

Stopping him is pointless. Dean won’t trap him in a place where he thinks he isn’t wanted. He can’t think, can’t process what Cass had said, what it all means.

Maybe they could have fixed things. Time was never on their side. He knew they’d both done things and said things. There hadn’t been time to think about what he feels… to separate emotion from adrenaline. But the angel had decided it was too late. He’d decided it was too late just like he’d decided not to tell them about Jack… when he decided to change the plan. Someone always dies.

Maybe this is for the best. A new chapter.

But…

Every receding footstep thuds like a nail.

Clang.

Clang.

Against the metal stair case that leads to the door.

_‘Welcome to the end.’_

Nailing him to his coffin.


	2. Implosion

Belphegor had done well to play into his fears.

But it turns out, it isn’t his fears. He thinks back to when he told the demon that Sam and Dean held no affection for him… that they were just using him, plain and simple. How easily that applied to him now. All along actually, he’d just been too stupid to see it. Caught up in the Winchesters and their need to fix everything.

He’d tried. He’d given his all. Did Dean think it was easy for him to… slaughter the demon… the demon that wore Jack’s face and spoke in Jack’s voice? It had almost killed him. But he made the right choice. The hard choice. Or so he thought. Dean hadn’t seen it though. All he had seen was a disobedient soldier who hadn’t followed orders and thought for himself.

Castiel had escaped one crusade and fallen – quite literally – in with another.

Dean hadn’t cared about Castiel. His eyes hurt as he thinks back to the time that they had spent together. Seemingly meaningless to an immortal with eons behind him, yet the last few years stand out vividly against all the rest. He’d been so convinced that he had a purpose. Trust. Family. Love…

He’d convinced himself that he’d found a place; earned his place with them. But it would be Sam and Dean against the world. The world which he’d helped them save, whether they want to admit it or not. It’s not fair. Every sacrifice he’d made was overlooked, every attempt for more was quashed.

It always felt as though he was infringing on the brothers. But now he knows that he was. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

Their words should hold no ground.

They’ll be dead soon; just a few short years. 

He can move on.

But his feet remain rooted to the dirt outside the bunker door; the home that was never really his.

Dean’s face, hard and unmoved by his pleas eclipse their happier memories. Drowns them in doubt.

_Were _they really real?

He’d thought so. Believed it with all his grace. He’d shared it with Dean… and he’d walked out. Castiel’s words had no standing with them. He’d betrayed them one time too many. After thousands of years he can tell when something is broken... and yet, he’d stood in the glass, bleeding out for far too long.

Somehow, he has to learn to put himself first. To give himself to someone who can reciprocate in a healthy, meaningful way. Yet his heart isn’t in it, as he marches himself – almost flees really – out of the bunker; away from Dean and his judgement. To somewhere he would be needed. He doesn’t know really. He doesn’t care, really. He feels possessed, like his actions aren’t his own. Perhaps natural instincts had finally kicked in, carrying him away from something toxic, something he had died for so many times.

Maybe _that_ had been why he left. There was no earth shattering crisis to still his tongue. Dean had been there, this time his words had scalded but they strengthened his resolve. Castiel could not stand another hateful look, snide comment or order that he was expected to follow dutifully. He thinks back to Hell, where he was just tossed in. Castiel had been tossed into many situations and no matter how bad it was, how dead he might be… Dean always expected him to come back. Like his own personal boomerang.

Not anymore, Castiel think, he won’t let himself come back.

The moon shone brightly, the insects chirped and the world carried on once more… utterly oblivious to how close it had been to ending.

Castiel walks away numbly yet all too raw. The earth may be fine but his world had just imploded.


	3. "He'll Come Back"

And that’s where Sam finds him the next morning: nailed to that damn table.

“Dean.” Sam rushes over to him, instantly pushing aside his own pain. Dean doesn’t deserve that. He’d had enough time to replay the expressions on Cass’ face. The hurt and utter annihilation that Dean had been too caught up in himself to recognise. He’s just as good as sent his friend packing.

“He’ll come back.” He wants to blame the hoarseness of his voice on the alcohol. But the glass of whiskey is still gripped in his hands. Wouldn’t be surprising if his fingers got stuck like that.

A lot of thinking had happened while Cass was gone.

Where would he go?

“He’ll be back.” He says in response to Sam’s worry. Maybe if he says it out loud it will become true.

“What happened?” he demands, “Was there some sort of emergency.”

Dean laughs mirthlessly. Dean had always wished to catch a break. Now he couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t enjoy it.

“He thinks it’s time to move on.” From me.

“Move on?” Sam parrots, becoming unnaturally still.

Dean says nothing.

“And you let him leave.” Sam’s voice becomes higher on each word.

“He’ll come back.” Dean is sure.

…

It’s been three days. Everything is quiet. And Dean is a son of a bitch for wishing something would happen. Anything really.

Just an excuse to call Cass. How had he left? Sure, he could walk, had waited on a street corner for hours… for Dean. He squeezes his eyes shut.

Space.

Perspective.

That’s what he needs.

What Cass needs.

He’ll come back.

…

It’s been two weeks.

Sam is better. He’s eating what Dean cooks.

Doing research, checking up on Chuck and Amara. That they hadn’t come back to make sure the earth was really dead and gone.

Dean sits at the wooden table. Maybe someone really would make a coffin an burn him in it. He thinks of another coffin he should have gone into. How weak he was, distracted by his own emotions. He thinks of the people they lost and all the lies they’d been fed.

He thinks of Chuck, controlling everything.

But if Chuck had left… really left… then everything from that point would be all _them._ No more hidden agendas; no one to blame it all on.

It’s all up to them. For real this time.

Digging his fingers into the wood his breathing picks up. Real. This is real. No one is pulling the strings.

The door looms in his periphery.

“He’ll come back.” Dean is almost sure.

…

It’s been a month.

“Dean we have to find him.” Sam’s voice breaks him out from his reverie. “Cass is family. We shouldn’t let him be out there all alone. He should be here. With us. You know that.”

“He’ll come back.” Dean’s voice is insistent. It’s the last thing from keeping Sam from knowing that he’s lost another friend.

Sam had created a sort of tribute to Rowena in the Men of Letter’s files. Detailing how great a witch she was and what her sacrifice had meant. Dean caught him read it sometimes at night.

Sam frowns at him. He treats Dean like an invalid now. Bringing him food; not yelling. Dean is fine. He just likes this chair. Likes this table. “I know.” Sam’s voice is gentle, “I know you think he needs space right now. But we should at least check-up.”

Dean shakes his head, no.

“At least tell me what happened.”

“He’ll come back.”

With a disbelieving nod, Sam walks away. Dean can see the light of his phone before he exits the room. It’s not hard to figure out who he’s calling.

“He’ll come back.” It’s a prayer; whispered brokenly to an empty room.


	4. Where It All Went Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is something like how I think this season's plot will go. The pieces start coming together in this chapter.
> 
> (Next up is Castiel's POV)

“Dean.” He whips around, knowing that voice anywhere, “We need to talk.”

“Billie.” His voice is gruff. “What do you want?”

“Where’s your brother and your angel?” her voice tells him she already knows.

“He’ll be back.” His voice doesn’t sound confident.

“The Shadow and I have convened and we’ve determined that it’s high time we step in.” she explains, “Call Castiel, Jack will want to see him.”

That has him perking up, “Jack?” he asks, but Billie has already vanished.

He wants to ask Sam to call. It would be so easy. Cass would probably answer him anyway. But Dean misses him. He’s had some time to think. Cass had made the best of a bad situation, he didn’t know Rowena would die. He didn’t know … about Mary.

Closing his eyes he sends as much intent through the prayer as possible: “Cass, I’ve been a dick, I know but something’s happened. Something big is happening and I know you’re still pissed at me… it’s about Jack. Billie and the Shadow… I think they want to bring him back.”

It’s only a few minutes later when nothing has happened that Dean realises: Cass is still low on grace. Feeling like an idiot, he shakes his head, reaching for his phone. It starts vibrating almost instantly.

“Cass.” He practically breathes.

“Dean.” The voice is almost frantic, “Is it true?”

“Yeah.”

…

“Now that we’re all here.” Announces Billie, causing Dean to jump in surprise.

“Where’s Jack?” Cass growls, stalking closer.

Billie throws him a sidelong glare, ignoring him entirely, “Chuck seemed oddly insistent to kill this one Nephilim. Have any of you even wondered why?”

“For the story, of course.” Sam chimes in, “Said so himself before he released all of hell.”

“But why?” asks Billie. “Why would he? The whole father kills son story line?”

No one says anything.

Sam acts as a buffer between Dean and Cass. Dean knows it isn’t necessary anymore. He won’t push things with Cass; he’s happy to just have him here with them again. Team Free Will.

Dean blinks.

Billie’s gone.

Dean curses as Cass scowls and starts to walk away.

It’s déjà vu.

‘Stop’ is on the tip of his tongue. In fact, he’s halfway across the room, striding towards Cass when he catches himself. What is he doing? What use would it be? He looks back to Sam helplessly, ignoring the look in his brother’s eyes that practically screams ‘do something!’ But Dean can’t do anything.

Which is the problem.

Dean can’t be emotionally available like he knows Cass wants. Too much had been said and even if they did work together there would always be that rift between them. Their relationship had ruptured like - like a tendon. Some time would make better, but the pain would linger. So maybe it was for the best. Cass had managed to escape them, somewhat alive. Which is more than they can say for any of their other friends. Maybe Cass’ had caught the golden ticket that night when he flew the coup. Hell if Dean is going to drag him back.

Billie had found him. She could find Cass just as easily if anything on Jack popped up.

“Cass.” Dean feels a rush of air blow past him as Sam almost barrels him over in his haste to get to Cass. “Stop. I’m sure Billie will be back.”

“I’m not sure I’m welcome.” He glances at Dean pointedly.

He looks away, neither confirming nor denying.

Sam lets out a harsh breath. Dean can tell he’s disappointed. “_I_ want you to stay.” Sam emphasises.

Still looking at Dean, Cass makes his way down the last rungs of stairs. Dean turns on his heel and marches to his room.

What had he been doing the past few months? Who had he stayed with? Those and a thousand more questions plague Dean as he sits sullenly in his room. He knows right and wrong. That he should be on his knees, apologising and begging for forgiveness. There are only two things that stop him: pride and common sense.

He thinks back to where it all went wrong.

Was it when Cass had left them for Kelly? Maybe. Maybe it had gone wrong at the start, when Castiel raised him from perdition?

He stops. Things went wrong – mom died – because Jack burnt his soul away to kill Michael and Michael had only gotten out because Dean had been too selfish to get into that damned box.

Springing up, back ram-rod straight, he smiles for the first time in a long while.


	5. Hammer In The Tool-Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass is back in town.
> 
> (Almost died when he said this line.)

Castiel marvels at the kitchen space. How unchanged it even in his absence. He belatedly wonders if Sam and Dean had even missed him. He supposes not, given how relentlessly terse Dean had been. He’d poured his heart out… and still no change in their behaviour. Well, at least Sam had offered to let him stay.

Not that he can really blame Billie for jerking him around. He had killed her after all. To save the Winchesters. Everything had been for or them. But what would they do for Castiel? The answer had seemed to be written in the back of Dean’s shirt as he walked away: nothing. Castiel was no longer useful.

Dean had given him a courtesy call. It was more than he’d expected to be honest but the cold shoulder still stung.

Out of the two brothers, Dam had at least offered him a spot to wait and some coffee, which he appreciated, now more than ever as his grace continued to wane.

Having spent most of his time either working small cases or looking for a way to bring Jack back Castiel hadn’t allowed himself much time to feel the loss of the people he’d considered family or the place he always dreamt of calling home.

Loud clanging perks him up. He glances at the clock; past two in the morning. He supposes that the Winchesters could be awake. Dean, ambling around in search of a stiff drink, or Sam who Castiel caught many nights with his hand in the fridge. But what if it wasn’t them, but some creature sent to kill them. In such perilous times, the bunker’s warding shouldn’t be given such credibility. Why knew what had escaped from Hell.

In the dim red lights he sees a figure move. Methodically opening and shutting ever door in the hall swiftly. Castiel would know those shoulders anywhere.

Should he say something? _“There’s nothing left to say.”_

His words echo through the room, through his skull, reminding him what had happened. He knew his place; he wouldn’t push… not anymore.

“Cass!” Dean calls, picking up on his presence just as he starts to edge away. “Was lookin’ everywhere for you.” the tone of Dean’s voice sends tremors through him. It makes him think that Dean wants to talk… figure thing out with them. It would mean everything, to be forgiven and to give Dean his forgiveness.

A hand, solid and dependable, lands on his shoulder. “How much mojo you got left?”

It seems as if the world narrows to this one moment, thousands of years, overshadowed by his emotions in this one instant. Dean’s hand almost burns him now, his body wanting to reject the touch. How dare he? Had he heard nothing? Didn’t he – care? No he doesn’t, Castiel reminds himself.

In the real world, Dean raises an eyebrow, seemingly want to get along with the interaction.

“That’s what you say to me?” he manages. The anger is there, simmering, but his feelings of betrayal stops it from coming to a full boil. How stupid. To hope. “After everything, I’m still just a hammer to you.” he pauses, reigning in his emotions. Dean doesn’t deserve to see him crack. “I told you Dean… I’m _not_ a hammer. And I you have no right to ask me anything that suits your agenda.”

Dean’s face remains impassive, as though Castiel’s declaration had made no impact. His soul though, it reaches out, until it, too, pulls back once more. Inconsistent.

“This isn’t for my agenda.” The words aren’t hard, but they aren’t welcoming either. They’re just words, spoken as though Dean is reciting facts, “This is for the good of everyone.” He repeats his question: “How much mojo do you have?”

He shouldn’t answer. He doesn’t even want to. He wants to sulk and leave Dean in the dark for once. But as they say, old habits die hard. “Enough to do most things I could usually do.”

Swallowing nervously, Dean inches closer, “Enough to time travel.”

Hackles rising, Castiel backs away. “When?”

“Not far.”

Not far. Castiel could probably manage a few years at most, even then, they were likely to be stuck there afterwards.

“When?” if he’s doing this. _If._ He needs to know every detail. He can’t afford to be screwed by the Winchesters now, not when Jack could return at any moment.

“Couple of months. ‘Round eight.”

Eight months… Michael.

Dean speeds up, talking at a rapid fire pace, “Just shove me into the box and toss it into the ocean. It should be quick. And if you get to me before the whole Donatello fiasco you won’t even have to drag me. Tell me – tell me _everything_. How this turns out. I’ll go then.”

Castiel has a hard time moving his tongue, “You’ll… go…” his mind whirls, “Then?” he isn’t sure what he’s saying. He isn’t even sure what Dean is saying. Everything makes no sense.

“Cass.” Dean’s voice draws him back, “Will you do it.”

Yes.


	6. Ma'lak Box

Yes. “No.” he lies, “I’ll be trapped there.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dean approaches once more, “You’re lying.”

Of course he’s lying. They’d fought so hard to _not_ have Dean suffering alone for all eternity at the bottom of some forsaken ocean. “Just because we’re fighting.” These words taste like acid in his mouth, “Doesn’t mean that I’m going to sentence you to an eternity with Michael, Dean.”

“I don’t want it either.” He throws his hands up, posture defensive, “But it’s where everything went to shit. I ruined everything by not going through with it. You have to help me Cass, you’re the only one who can help me.”

He could. But he _can’t. _This is Dean. Dean who he raised from hell. Dean, who he’d modelled himself after. Castiel had learned how to be human from him. Despite Dean’s lack of trust in him, which he _knows_ is his fault, he still trusts Dean. Still doesn’t wish him ill. He’s just tired of feeling used… not really fitting anywhere like and old jigsaw piece that fit into none of the puzzles.

It’s too much pressure. To do something. Always.

“No Dean.” He shakes his head, “I won’t do this to you.”

And Dean really seems to understand his conviction. That nothing would change his mind.

He just scowls, clenching is fists in anger.

Castiel leaves him be.

…

Castiel gives Dean a few minutes to stew in his anger before he returns to the kitchen. He had hoped that Dean would stalk away in a rage and not return until the morning, however he finds Dean and Billie in the kitchen.

Knowing something is wrong and doing it for the greater good is something Castiel has long come to terms with. At least, that’s how he justifies spying on their conversation. Knowing Dean, he’ll get Billie to do what Castiel had refused… and leave them without a word. Just like last time.

“Chuck is gone!” Dean’s voice is vehement. “There’s nothing stopping you from just pushing me in that box.”

Billie presses her lips together, “Of course there is: the natural order? But you wouldn’t know about that would you?”

“That’s what I want you to fix.”

“But the real problem would still remain.” She observes. “Chuck isn’t gone.”

Castiel almost gasps. After all he’d done, Chuck still felt the need to stay around in this dying world with the puppets whose strings he’d manipulated since day one?

Billie presses on, taking advantage of Dean’s silence, “He’s trapped here. And we need you and your brother to fix things.”

“What’s new?” Dean huffs, “Why isn’t Jack here?”

“He will be.” She assures, and Castiel feels a weight lift from his chest, “But not yet. I knew mentioning Jack would make you call the angel.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dean stakes a threatening step closer, “What’d you need Cass for?”

“Nothing.” She says evenly.

“Bull. Shit.” Dean growls.

Frankly, Castiel is surprised that Dean is even following up on anything to do with him.

She shrugs, “Have you given up on your stupid plan?”

Dean bristles, clearly _still_ opposed to hearing any criticism about his precious plans. “For now.”

“What about _your_ game plan then?”

“That’s not for you to know.”

“You just told me – ”

Holding up a finger to silence him, Castiel leans closer, not wanting to miss anything, “You can’t know. Yet.” She raises a brow as Dean opens his mouth to protest. “You have the right idea. My books say the only way this ends well is if you get in that box with Michael. Your execution leaves some to be desired though.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” she says, “That we need you to say yes. Michael is free of the cage. He will want to help his father, and to do so…” Billie gestures to Dean, “He needs his perfect vessel.”

“If it’s just Chuck… and Sam weakened him when he shot him…” Understanding has Castiel clutching the door frame.

“We can take him… with what we have now. With Michael at his side, however damaged he may be, things can get messy.” She nods, “The way I see it, for our plan to work you have three options: one, you say yes and we shove you into the Ma’lak box, two you say yes and take control and we have Michael’s powers on our side and three say yes and then kill Michael.”


	7. Death's Plan

…

“I’ve held him before.” Dean reasons, like Billie hadn’t just suggested that he kill himself. “This time around he’ll he weakened from the cage. What about Sam? Cass?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t tell you. If Michael takes control, he’ll tell Chuck everything. Show me that you can take control… and keep it, then we’ll see.”

Silence ensues as they all think about the possibilities… the things that can go wrong. “There’s nothing you can tell me then?” Dean sounds resigned.

“Castiel.” She says, “The last two times I’ve seen you Dean… you’d just killed yourself.”

What?

Castiel knows nothing of this. He waits to for Dean to say something… deny everything…

“Think about why you did it.” she says, “The first time… it was for Sam… but the second- ”

“It was for the spirits!” he blurts.

“Right.” Her tone is dry and sceptical, “That’s why you didn’t want to come back. I’ve brought him back twice for you now.”

“What?”

Her smile is threatening; condescending, “Did you really think, that a being as old and as powerful as the Empty… couldn’t send one angel back to sleep.” Dean gulps, Castiel twitches, “Sure he played with the angel for a bit before sending him back. I knew you didn’t want to live without him and I didn’t care; but you were… _necessary._”

More stillness. This time, it’s filled with tension and roiling with Dean’s anger. “And now with Jack, you’re just tricking him?”

“Jack will be here.” She assures, “Not yet, but he will. I had no way of knowing if you’d do something so stupid again. Precautions had to be taken. _You_ certainly weren’t about to help yourself by even calling him.”

Castiel watches Billie as she watches Dean expectantly. His mind races. He’d been so wrong about Dean… wrong to leave. Dean does care. He cares and once again he’s doing something immeasurable stupid. Doesn’t he see that Billie is lying about something? About Michael about her plan?

“What’s the saying?” her mocking tone sickens Castiel, “If you love something let it go… but if it loves you, it will come back. I’ve never heard anything more poetic.”

“Shut up.” Dean says, his voice unpliable. “I’ll talk to Sam. We’re doing this tomorrow.”

…

He lets Dean rest, standing silently near his door. He wouldn’t put it past the older Winchester to leave in the middle of the night.

“Cass?” Sam’s voice makes him smile. He’d missed them both, and while he still isn’t sure of his standing in their home, he can’t help but enjoy his time in their presence.

“Good morning Sam.”

“Morning.” He replies. “I’m headed out for a run. To clear my head.”

Castiel nods, now noticing the track pants and old T-shirt that had replaced the usual jeans and flannel. An idea suddenly comes to life…

“Sam…” he says, “Can I join you.”

Sam cocks his head, “You’re not really in running clothes Cass.”

“I don’t perspire.” Not yet at least.

He shrugs, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Maybe he can get Sam on his side. Maybe he can get Sam to pull the plug on this ridiculous idea before it goes too far.


	8. Death's Plan (The Real One This Time)

Sam unlocks the bunker quickly dashing down the stairs. Cass hangs back a bit, as planned, wanting to give Sam enough time to find and confront Dean. While Sam goes to Dean’s room, Castiel heads to his designated spot in the kitchen. He fiddles with the coffeemaker and sticks his hand in the sugar jar, eating a handful. It eases his nerves just a little.

“Cass I can’t find him.” Sam’s voice has him dusting his hands quickly into the sink.

“He’s gone.” Billie appears suddenly behind the younger Winchester, causing him to jump.

Castiel advances, “What do you mean ‘he’s gone?’”

“He’s left.” He reiterates, “To meet Michael at a more neutral location.”

Black lines appear on the outer edges of his vision. Worst of all, Billie seems to derive some sick kind of pleasure from his suffering.

“You think I couldn’t sense you there?” she asks, “Hovering in the kitchen?”

He bristles.

A flutter of wings tells him that someone is here. “Michael!” he growls, moving to stand in front of Sam.

“Woah.” Dean holds his hands up, “It’s still me. Dean.”

“How can we believe that?” he fights the onslaught of emotions that he’d kept trapped since the first time Dean had said yes.

“Check.” He challenges, inching closer to Castiel. Michael would have the perfect opportunity to smite him from this position, yet he doesn’t back away. He can see Dean’s soul and Michael’s grace in a continuous battle for control of the body. He isn’t sure which one has control at the moment.

Castiel presses two fingers to his forehead gasping as he finds Dean… and only Dean. Michael is once more locked away. His weakened state making it a much easier feat than the first time.

Pulling away, he gives Sam a short nod. He can see all the words on Sam’s lips and he can see how much it takes to hold them back.

“It’s the only way.” He insists, “I can use Michael’s power to help us kill Chuck.” His hand shoots forward once more, latching onto Castiel’s shoulder. Out of instinct he tries to break the hold but Dean holds fast, letting a stream of energy flow through him.

A sense of profound… wholeness, engulfs him. No. He couldn’t have. He stretches his wings for the first time in years and they almost droop, unaccustomed to their full weight. Dean smiles in satisfaction as the two full shadows take up the wall. “One angel, charged to one hundred percent.” Dean chirps, puffing his chest out slightly.

“Thank you.” his voice is thin. It’s bittersweet to have gotten his wings back in such a manner; now he can be of some use to the Winchesters though. So he accepts it with grace.

“Now that that’s over.” Billie says, attracting attention back to herself, “It’s time to tell you the real plan.”

“The real plan?” Sam parrots.

“You didn’t think our entire plan depended on Dean and Michael did you?” Castiel huffs at her condescending tone. “I couldn’t have our plan ruined because Dean couldn’t hold his archangel grace.”

“We need Dean and Michael, yes.” She continues, “But not for the reason you think. The empty has almost all the angels and a large number of demons making him powerful enough to hold God. Dean over here, with the help of Michael, will help up trap him within the empty, just as Amara was trapped. Sam, here, has the most important role of all. He’s tied to Chuck in a way we’re still unsure of. But he’s the ace up our sleeve. We’ll spend every waking moment finding out what the bullet did and how it connected them.”

“Wait.” Castiel’s voice rings out, clear and stern. “Trapping Chuck in the Empty… that would mean someone has to lock him in.”

Billie smiles, “It really comes full circle doesn’t it. Dean will take the Mark of Cain in order to trap Chuck. And maybe even the Darkness, if she comes into play.”


	9. Thelma and Louise Diving Off This Cliff Together

Morning has broken.

And Dean is still possessed by Michael.

Dean insists that he’s trapped… docile… uncaring of the world around him. But he knows full well the power of an archangel, even a weakened one.

“Hey buddy, can we talk?”

He wants to say no, turn around and slam the coffeemaker into Dean’s face but he won’t, if only because Dean can smite him now.

“I don’t really have much of a choice recently do I?” he drawls.

“Look. Cass.” He pleads, “I just want to talk. Somewhere neutral maybe. It’s been a long time since you’ve flown, and I can’t even imagine what that must be like for you. I – I mean, that’s like me without Baby.” He shudders.

Longing fills him to take flight once more to soar through the skies with Dean at his right hand. But how could he? When Michael could take over at any moment. No one would be the wiser.

“Michael’s here.” Dean comments, seeming to read his reluctance, “I – uh, made him his own litte slice of Heaven. Lucy is dead, him and the other angels are singing and dancing in the silver city. He knows it isn’t real. But – he doesn’t really care you know. He just needs something. Something… to end his suffering. Oh his pain… it’s endless, insurmountable. I’m sorry for that poor bastard.”

Castiel remains silent. Dean had just spoken to him more than he had in the past few months combined.

“Let’s go.” He says, holding out a hand.

Dean smiles proudly, “I can fly too now. Like a friggin’ bird. A bird that’s scared of heights.”

Smiling he shakes his head at Dean’s irrational fear. Especially now, his wings would never allow him to fall, and neither would Castiel.

“You don’t know where we’re going.” He says instead, Dean bobs his head in agreement, “Should we tell Sam that we’re going.”

Dean rubs at his arms, “Nah, he’s pretty pissed right now.”

This time Dean takes his hand without flinching and Castiel leads them off to his favourite place on this earth.

“Woah!” Dean shouts, stumbling and almost falling over the edge.

“You wings would open on instinct.” Reassures Castiel.

Dean doesn’t hear him though, his eyes are stuck on the vista before them. Water streams from a wide mouthed waterfall down into a symmetrical lake. The soft green grass blankets the entire scene. Castiel had always enjoyed jumping from the waterfall and into the lake below. He’d only ever done it rarely but that’s what had made it special.

“Where is this?” Dean wonders.

“Seljalandsfoss. Iceland.”

“Yeah, I’m not even going to try to repeat that.”

“You wanted to talk.” Castiel reminds him.

“Right.” He says, tearing his eyes away, “Yeah, talk. I’m sorry. For the shitty way I’ve been treating you and not listening to you or showing you how much you mean to me.” Castiel tries to listen neutrally, not wanting to be led on onto to fall once more, “I missed you. I kept thinking you’d come back and I – was almost happy when Billie appeared. It meant you’d come back to me. As selfish as it is.” Dean’s self-loathing expression settles onto his features and Castiel finds himself wanting to comfort him immediately.

He holds back though. He won’t let himself be the first one to break.

“We – we need…” he trails off, his eyes lighting up, “Wait here one second.”

Before waiting for a reply Dean flies away.

Castiel sighs, his shoulders drooping. _I’ll just wait here then._

Dean appears with a whoosh and a thud.

The table from the bunker, the one that had stood between them during their last confrontation rests casually atop the cliff. Does Dean plan to re-enact it? Suddenly Castiel wishes that he hadn’t brought them to this place. He doesn’t want to sully the one peaceful thing left.

“Do you want to smite it?” Dean asks, as casually as if he were asking Castiel about his coffee preferences. Dean blinks hopefully at him, “Uh, symbolism.” He blurts. “Burn the table and our troubles along with it?”

“This is a peace offering?” he asks tentatively.

“Yup.”

“Let’s smite it together… and after that,” He says, feeling a grin creeping onto his face, “You’re Thelma and I’m Louise and we’re just gonna hold hands and dive off this cliff together.”

Dean mirrors his smile. Resting one hand on the table. Castiel follows suit desperately wanting to make things last this time.

“Ready?” he asks.

The table explodes into ashy confetti. Both of them are smiling even as black debris rains down around them.

“You ready to dive off this cliff buddy?” Castiel asks.

“You going to fall for me?” Dean teases. Castiel scoffs; he’d done that long ago.

Fear drives Dean to grasp his hand. A completely unnecessary reaction, but he doesn’t complain.

They fling themselves from the ledge, eyes trained on each other rather than the water below. At peace. Stable. Falling fast, but what else is new.

Dean trusts him again.

Castiel grips Dean’s hand tightly, _if you love me don’t let me go _he tries to convey wordlessly.

The impact should have jostled them apart.

It doesn’t.


	10. Ooh Death

“Hey Cass?” Dean calls as they both lie on the damp bank, “Can I tell you something?”

“I’ve missed our talks Dean.” The angel replies. Castiel is still basking in the glory of having his wings restored. He could never explain how intrinsic an angel’s wings are and how gutting their loss had been.

“This um, this isn’t exactly happy.”

“Tell me.” he says softly.

Dean shivers beside him and Castiel finds himself drawing closer, hanging on his words. How perfect he looks in Castiel’s slice of heaven.

“Billie – when she was trying to convince me to pray to Michael… she showed me something. Something horrible. That I caused by never going into that box. You know how you’re always talking about time and it being fluid and that changing things are hard. I’m the expert at screwing up. She showed me – Cass she took me back to the day we went after Lucifer with the Colt.” Dean’s voice trembles. He remembers that day well. He’d been captured, the reapers had lined the streets, waiting their long lost master and Dean… Dean had lost two people he had considered family. Jo and Ellen.

“What did you see?” he asks, barely keeping the anxiety from his voice.

“I saw Death.” He breathes looking Castiel in the eye. It isn’t friendly as it was before, it’s almost chilling. “I got to see him rise out of that coffin. I got to see the coffin. I can’t believe that we never figured it out. Lucifer knew and he knew exactly what would chain him.”

Castiel waits with bated breath even as Dean struggles to continue. He wants to offer support so he touches Dean’s arm gently, letting his grace caress him.

“Cass I fucked up.” He whispers as though hiding his shame from the world. “Billie told me that I should have gotten into the box. Then she would have taken me to the deepest sea she could find and drop me to the bottom of the ocean. Only – only it wouldn’t be in this time, it would have been in the past, like Jurassic times. I would wait there for years, I would go mad, scream shout until Michael’s grace brunt out… so long that the universe would see me as a force to be reckoned with and they would give me a title.”

Castiel feels a chill run through him. No, it can’t be.

“But I was just too weak. Too selfish to do what needed to be done and I’ve screwed everything. I keep blaming other people when it’s really me – I’m the something that always goes wrong.”

And then Castiel has to speak up, to tell Dean that he’s wrong, that he’s always been the righteous man who’s saved the world from annihilation more than any other being had, but Dean just talks over him, ranting and raging, wanting to get the words out before he can’t anymore. And Castiel understands, there would be a time for comfort, for him. But right now, he just needs to listen and help Dean bear this burden.

“The continents would break apart, form, break apart and I would remain. I would survive the death of a billion species unscathed. And then I would finally settle into a spot under a place called Carthage, Missouri. There I would wait.” His eyes bore into Castiel’s, “I saw the coffin. I saw _my _coffin. And you know – it made sense, suddenly – everything that happened, everything that he did. Saving Sam from the cage. You.” he jabs a finger at Castiel, “You never actually died when he was around… he couldn’t bear to reap you. He never took you to the Empty because he knew I needed you. He gave me the ring and a practice run to prepare me. I can’t believe I didn’t see it; it was right in front of me. Straight down to the car and the damn bacon pizza!”

Dean runs a hand though his hair, displacing the wet strands even further, “Lucifer pulled me out of that coffin – the Ma’lak box – and in that moment Dean died and I became Death.”

Castiel tries to find the words he had wanted to say just seconds ago, but his mouth has run dry. Luckily, he’s saved from replying by a loud crack. At first he thinks that the cliff has given way; but no rocks are tumbling down.

In fact, it’s the sky that rips open, projectiles crashing though the sky, never managing to meet the ground. He’s so shocked by Dean’s revelation that he loses precious seconds trying to figure out what’s happening.

“Heaven is falling.” He breathes, dumbfounded.

What should they do? What should they do?

“We have to go up there!” he screams, “To keep the lights on. All of the souls are falling. This will be worse than hell Dean, we have to go!”


	11. FALLING SKIES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so irregular with my updates lately. I started a job this november and I leave a 6:30 and get back around 6:00, so I'm pretty drained. Good news is that I'm free again from December so things should get back on track.

The angels are all dead.

Dumah.

Even Naomi.

Dead with their wings burnt into the walls. They had all been gathered into one room. Slaughtered brutally. Their vessels strewn about the room, merely spatters, wings burnt into the pristine white walls.

Castiel grips Dean’s arms.

Every last angel. Dead.

“Cass don’t check out on me now.” Dean commands but his voice is shaking. There’s only one person who could walk into Heaven and wreak such havoc. “If Chuck is still here, then he’s probably looking for you too. Don’t die on me.”

And that’s what snaps Castiel back to attention: the mere implication of what his death had driven Dean to… it sobers him. It’s a reality that he can’t allow to happen again. He knows his deal with the Empty still looms over him, but he figures it’s on hold for the time being.

“We need to get the gun and come back.” Dean whispers.

Castiel nods.

The Impala rests unassumingly in the garage and Dean immediately heads for the glove compartment.

“Looking for this?” a voice asks

The both whorl around in sync to meet the intruder.

“Remember me boys?” Castiel looks closely, past the blonde Caucasian mask she wears, to see the creature underneath.

“Lilith.” Dean growls, reaching into his jacket for his angel blade. “Still as ugly as ever.”

She smiles sweetly, “Still as cocky as…” she trails off, taking a step back. “How did you know it was me?”

Dean winks, “Lucky guess.” He quips, “Or y’know the archangel grace.”

Horror quickly changes her demeanour and Castiel takes the opportunity to lunge, quickly trapping her in a hold while Dean scrambles to the trunk for warded handcuffs.

“What did you do with the gun?” he demands as he snaps the cuffs on. “And where is Sam?”

She grins.

“Where’s Sam!?” Dean shakes her violently this time, jostling Castiel in the process.

“That whole ‘the sky is falling’ thing was just a distraction. Chuck let me walk right past your little wardings. And oh - ” she wriggles her fingers, disintegrating the cuffs in an instant. “Would you look at that?” Which is followed by her vanishing completely.

“Cass.” Dean breathes, “Shit.” He exhales harshly pressing a hand to his temple. His entire body locks up as he looks at Castiel in horror. “Sam!”

…

They find him reading quietly in the library, completely unaware of anything that had happened. Someone had disabled the bunkers warding systems so he was even oblivious to Heaven falling.

“Man, what do we do?” Dean wonders, “I mean, _everyone_ would have seen that lightshow. So many ghosts, more than Hell. How are we going to fight that? We have to – ”

“What?” Sam asks, “What’s the plan Dean?”

“Tell them.” he blurts. “About what’s happening, how to protect themselves. Everything.”

“Dean.” Castiel protests, his mind racing, “It will cause catastrophe. World-wide panic.”

“Better than deaths that we can help prevent.” He argues, “Rowena’s spell was a onetime thing. We need to find some – some other outlet.”

“Hey fellas.”

Chuck stands one table over, rocking back in a chair with his hands behind his head. Casual as ever.

“Nice light show earlier.” He grins, “Right?”

No one responds.

Castiel subtly reaches for his blade. Anything to protect them, buy them even an extra second. But it brings his presence to Chuck’s attention.

He actually topples over in shock. With a loud crash and he can read it on Dean’s face: if they had the gun, he’d take the shot. Castiel is almost glad that Lilith stole it, he doesn’t relish watching Dean dying.

“What are you even doing here?” Chuck demands. He turns angrily to Dean pointing an accusing finger at him. “And you!” he throws his hands up. “What. Do. I. Have. To. Do?” he raises an eyebrow expectantly, “Seriously. Someone tell me what to do. You can’t even do this one thing. Ugh!” he scowls at Castiel before turning back to Dean, “What’s the – what’s the limit with you Dean?”

He points at Castiel, slowly moving his pointer finger back to his thumb. “You need to take a little vacation buddy.” He rubs his fingers together teasingly, a promise of what’s to come. “Nothing personal.”

Just as he’s about to snap, probably scatter Castiel into a million pieces, Dean whips a powerful blast directly at his shoulder, making him stumble.

“Dean.” He glowers, rising slowly, “You’ve really done it now.”

Castiel shields his eyes as the room is engulfed in a brilliant glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a really epic idea of what to do with all those souls...
> 
> Also, dun dun dun... the ending is decided and it's got something to do with the most recent episode s15e6


	12. Soul Power

“Sam!” Dean shouts trying to push past the blinding light. “Cass!”

“I’m okay Dean!” Sam shouts as the light gradually recedes.

“Cass?” he tries next, his voice wavering slightly. He blinks rapidly, trying in vain to clear the blips of colour from his eyes.

“Cass?” Sam tries, Dean can faintly observe his brother’s form as it stumbles, trying to gain balance once more.

Dean feels his breath stutter. Sam seems fine… but Cass isn’t. He isn’t even here and Dean is losing valuable seconds while being discombobulated by Chuck’s flare up. He must have turned tail and ran when Dean used Michael’s powers. What he doesn’t understand is why he’d take Cass with him.

He freezes, vomit creeping up his throat as a disturbing thought occurs to him. What if Cass had been standing too close? And he’s been incinerated in the blast. He’s once again reminded of his mother… not even having a body to burn – to properly mourn. Screwing his palms into his eyes he pushes those thoughts away. Chuck probably took him prisoner. But once again, Dean’s mind reminds him that when Dick had died, they’d both been incinerated, sucked into Purgatory without a trace.

No.

Crashing into a book case he slams his fist into it to sublet his frustration.

No way.

They’d just made up.

Minutes ago Cass and him had been lying on the damp sand, talking. He couldn’t be dead. No way. No way.

“Sam?” he calls weakly, hearing a grunt from his brother.

Dean’s vision finally clears enough that he can make it over to him, using Michael’s grace to mend any damage done to Sam.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Dean’s voice sounds far away, he’s not even aware that his lips are moving. Numbness encases him. “Billie wouldn’t allow that… right?”

Sam winces, glancing around once more, to ensure that they’re really alone.

“Dean.” He says, “I – what if – if Billie was never on our side. What if Chuck manipulated them into doing what they did? We have no idea how far his power extends.”

Dean notices how he avoids the main question.

That’s all the answer he needs.

Cass is most likely dead.

His breath hitches. Maybe they, right now, his ashes are floating around in the air between them, filling their lungs and –

Dean doubles over, throwing up, loudly and messily onto the concrete floors.

With a touch to Sam’s shoulder he takes them to the kitchen. He can’t stand being in that library another second.

“We have to bring him back.” Dean says instantly. “You know… get the Empty and we’ll have a chit chat.”

Sam just looks at him. Almost helplessly.

He tugs slightly at his brother’s shoulder, “He annoyed him so much before that he got thrown out. Maybe – maybe it’ll happen again?”

Sam looks away.

“We need to tell everyone.” Sam mumbles. “The ghosts are almost certainly wreaking havoc this very second.” he sighs, his shoulders slumping, “A YouTube video might offer the most coverage.” Nodding to himself Sam takes a step forward, Dean’s hand falling off his shoulder.

“Sam!” Dean snaps, “We have to get Cass back.”

His brother’s eyes belay so much grief Dean finds himself drowning.

“I know.” He turns his head, “I’m sorry Dean.”

“You have to help me.” he says still rooted to the floor.

“I will.” Sam promises, “But I need to warn everyone first. They have no idea what’s happening. Someone – someone has to do this.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean understands. But Cass is gone… and he can’t come to grips with that.

Lowering himself onto his knees he kneels in the mass of loose pages. In all the chaos all the odds and ends had been tossed around, not to mention the books… Sam’s poor filing system. He reaches forward, fingering the page closest to him. It looks familiar. Actually it looks like the bomb that was strapped to his chest.

Soul catching crystal.

Every major thing that had happened to them was all about getting souls and using their power.

Chuck is only half operational, for him to have turn tail and run when he saw Michael’s power… he’s beatable.

Maybe they don’t need Billie.

Or the shadow.

Him and Sam against all the evil in the world. That’s what had always worked best.

The power of almost forty-seven billion souls is unimaginable. If they could find a way to harness it, channel it. They’d need a hell of a lot of crystals so many some other medium. Rowena had used death as an infinite vessel…

Sam steps slowly into the room, staring at Dean concernedly. How long had he been sitting there?

“Sam…” he breathes, “You’re connected to Chuck right?”

“Yea.” He frowns, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Maybe – maybe you can use the souls. Get a power-up and we demolish Chuck.”

It sounds dangerous and he hates himself for suggesting it. But it’s their only play left.

He points at Sam, “You are going to tell me every damn thing about those visions.”


	13. Game Plan

“So what you’re tellin’ me…” Dean’s voice is gruff. Gruffer than it should be. He knows Sam just shared something personal with him but everything is just too fresh. Lilith. The gun. Chuck… Cass. “That you’ve been dreaming about us murdering each other every which way for the past couple of weeks and you said nothing.”

Sam sighs. “I thought it was PTSD dreams.” Sam admits.

“Sorry.” He mutters.

“It’s okay Dean.” Sam says, “I know we have bigger fish to fry right now.”

He hums still lost somewhere between his thoughts and forty minutes ago. When Cass had once again died before his eyes. “Can you tell me about them?” Dean asks softly.

“They usually start with some sort of backstory.” He says. “It isn’t long. But it’s there. It’s almost like… a branch off from our original time line.”

“Like the alternate universes.” Dean wonders.

“Kind of.” Sam scratches his head, “I can’t be sure. But one of them. It was a time when I – never stopped with the demon blood. And you came to kill me but you couldn’t. So I killed you.”

Dean feels himself pull away, glancing to the side to avoid Sam’s eyes. Sam on demon blood is as bad as it gets for him… besides Lucifer anyway but he’s out of the picture. But with Lilith back… demon blood Sam is a jarring thought.

“I think – I think I might be seeing Chuck’s memories… or at least all the different endings from every universe he’s ever created.”

“Ew.” Dean turns back in distaste, “You got an open connection to this bastard’s greatest hits.” He pauses then, “Maybe we can use that. Figure out where things go wrong and you kill me or I kill you and we find a way to never let that happen.”

He hears Sam’s gulp. Dean knows what he’s asking is no easy thing. But freedom never comes easy. And now he’s fired up and ready to fight. Ready to avenge Cass and everyone else that bastard killed.

“Usually… it’s you trying to kill me after I screw up and lose control of myself. Most times it doesn’t work out. And I kill you.” Dean feels his skin crawl knowing just how close they’d been to that so many times. If Cass hadn’t ripped him out of angel lockdown Dean knows that once he saw what Sam had done… how bad things would get now that Lucifer was out… he’d have said yes to Michael in a heartbeat and one of them would die. “Other times you have the Mark of Cain and you kill me with the first blade. It’s always something different each time. Something unexpected.”

“Well the common thing is that we always kill each other.” He scratches his chin trying to get past the sinking feeling in his gut, “He’s got some sick fantasy that always involves us murdering each other.”

“We need to find some way to make sure that never happens.”

“I could head over to wherever Chuck is and …” Dean blinks. What _would_ he do? “I’ll use Michael’s powers on him. Every last drop.”

“That’s suicide!” Sam hisses, clearly unamused by his plan.

“Chuck is weak, maybe I can beat him down enough for us to trap him.” He reasons, “And – if it doesn’t work – he can’t make us kill each other if only one of us is left.”

Sam’s face is shocked, hurt and angry all at once. “So that’s how this ends for you.” He says bitterly.

Dean doesn’t want this fight. Not now. “I always say it Sam. Going out in a blaze of glory is the best I’ll ever get.”

“Maybe.” Sam says, scrubbing a hand down his face, “But that doesn’t mean you have to go out looking for it.”

“Hey!” Sam snaps, “Don’t pretend you’re not listening. We have a plan. Remember? _Your plan._”

“What plan is that?” Dean remembers nothing of the sort.

“The one where we use the souls and go to Chuck on equal footing.” He enunciates each word like he’s explaining physics to toddlers.

Dean rolls his eyes, “You mean the plan where we put the two people – who he wants to kill each other – into the same room with him.”

“That’s the one.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Well it’s what we’re going to do.” Sam says decisively, “And I _will_ trap you in a ring of holy fire if I need to, so don’t get any funny ideas Dean.”


	14. Tell Me In Your Monologue; Spill Every Detail Of Your Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Chuck bitching

Dean turns to Sam, his eyes between his brother and the paper. Ideally, Sam should be the one to do this, but one can’t read and incantation whilst absorbing a gazillion mega tons of energy into one’s soul. The spell, designed by Sam, is ideally supposed to perform the same functions as Lilith’s Crook – if it works, that is.

Dean begins.

He feels Michael stir for the first time in days but he pushes him back down.

The room lights up as all the souls filter in. He notes the grimace on Sam’s face with distaste but snaps his eyes back to the page. He can’t afford to skip a line or butcher a word. Any deviation would most likely cause the entire state to explode, depending on how many souls are already in the area.

Breath trembling, he reads the final word, his head snapping up to assess his brother. Sam screams and all the lights blow out.

…

Darkness surrounds him. He’s held immobile by some force. Silence settles in the room like the morning fog. Only it isn’t nearly as pleasant. It reminds Castiel of the Empty.

“I just don’t understand Dean.” He hears a voice call, “I mean… I tried so hard. I wrote everything – perfectly. What else could I have done?”

“What?” he croaks.

“Keep up would you.” Chuck snaps.

The room is suddenly flooded with light.

“Oh Cass.” He moans, draping himself dramatically against the wall, “Where did it all go wrong?”

“I suppose it was when you showed up at my house on the night of the apocalypse that should have been.” He shakes his head, sadly as Castiel trembles in his invisible bonds. Where are the Winchesters? Where is he? And why is Chuck monolog-ing?

He parts his lips, to ask these questions only to have Chuck shush him and clamp his mouth shut, his teeth clacking together painfully.

“You – you should have just followed your orders like a good boy.” He snaps, “Sam would have said yes almost immediately… and once Dean saw the damage his brother had wrought … he’d be jumping at the chance to fix things. He would have been so heartbroken that he wouldn’t have cared about ‘saving lives’ or any other bullshit.”

He paces back and forth, nibbling on his fingernails, “Or maybe I should be blaming Dean. I mean, he _is_ the one who convinced you to betray me, none of the other Castiel’s fell for that one.”

“And then I tried to fix things… you know… give you your delusions of grandeur. Becoming me. That – that’s a big deal. Then you went and botched that too! And just when I thought I’d separated you from them… bam! Dean finds you in some suburban wasteland and just _brings_ you back into the fold as though you hadn’t just literally driven his brother insane.”

“What the hell is wrong with him?” he demands hysterically, ignoring Castiel’s hushed, garbled sounds. “I’m almost ashamed.” He presses a palm to his head in distress and Castiel almost rolls his eyes.

“Then – then I thought, hey, why don’t I let you kill his mother. And sure, that worked out pretty well. Except he forgave you _again._ How does someone forgive – anyone really – for killing their mother?!”

His eyes light up like the fourth of July, “The – in every other universe, Dean found some way to alienate you or you found some way to betray him. This one is the same. Except you’ve managed to fall in love. How… chickflick of you.” Castiel tries to shake his head. No. Dean doesn’t love me. Not the way that’s being implied. Dean couldn’t… could he.

But Castiel doesn’t have the time to day-dream.

“I have no other option left.” He lets out a pained sigh, “I have to kill you.”

Castiel’s eyes shoot open in horror. This is the man who killed Jack with but a snap. He feels himself tremble and struggle, but he knows that he’s not getting out of this.

“So it was written.” Chuck approaches menacingly, “And so it shall end.”


	15. True Love's Kiss

Sam’s eyes snap open, blazing white enough to light the entire room up. Then, as it fades, he turns to Dean with urgency. “I know where he is.”

One second Dean is standing in the bunker and the next he’s face to face with Chuck Shurley. Dean hears a muffled cry and whorls around.

“Cass!” he exclaims.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself then. Cass is alive. He locks eyes with Sam, giving him a short nod. Dean drops to the ground as Sam blasts Chuck with energy so powerful that it catapults him through the wall and out of the building.

With his hold on Cass relinquished, the angel crumples to his knees and Dean is there in an instant. Crushing him in a hug. “I thought you were dead.” He breathes.

…

Castiel exhales harshly. They’re alive.

Dean’s warmth is almost enough to distract him from the battle between Sam and Chuck. Vicious blows are landed and the entire ground shakes with the power contained in this once room.

Dean leads him away to a corner of the room.

“Sam says we can’t interfere.” He whispers, distraught, as Sam is swatted away like a fly. “He says it’s hard to control his new powers and he can’t risk incinerating us by accident.”

Gasping, Castiel presses himself further into the wall as Sam is launched through the roof at break neck speed. Dean waits a second before charging out, blasting Chuck from behind. Where he was caught off guard last time, he is more prepared for Michael’s power. Chuck laughs but remains immobile. Dean halts, twitching. His face contorts painfully and he grasps his skull.

“Did you think that my perfect child would ever betray me?” Chuck chuckles, “Would you ever do that to your father… before Castiel feel in love with you, that is?”

Dean’s eyes widen, flashing over to him.

Castiel launches himself at Chuck, wanting to distract him from Dean, who has his eyes squeezed shut and seems to be grappling for control with Michael. The look in Dean’s eyes makes Castiel want to deny everything… but now isn’t the time. They’re all having their asses handed to them.

Once again, Castiel finds himself helplessly immobilised… watching as Chuck stalks over to Dean. “Did you and Sam really think to beat me with souls… souls that _I_ created?” he laughs, “You should have just left me alone.” He taunts, “Oh, Cass and I were chatting before you so rudely interrupted. And I was wondering… why are you so forgiving? Do you even _know_ how many times I’ve had to course correct because you just couldn’t kill him?” he points to Castiel accusingly.

Chuck doesn’t get to answer as Sam comes crashing in, knocking Chuck into the floor.

Dean scrambles to his feet. “We need back up. Michael is whipping up a storm and I can barely control him.” His voice is frantic and Castiel feels himself shudder as Dean reveals the archangel blade. “We need Billie. The Empty. This is the only way I can contact them.”

No. No. It can’t end like this. “Dean wait!” he makes a grab for the blade.

“I’m sorry Cass.” Dean gestures to Sam. “Things aren’t looking good. And – and we all know where Winchester’s go when they die.”

‘_And then, when you finally give yourself permission to be happy and let the sun shine on your face, that's when I'll come._

_That's when I'll come to drag you to nothing.’_

“No.” Castiel says firmly. “I have another way.”

Dean huffs in exasperation. “Why didn’t you say anything Cass?”

He doesn’t reply. Squaring his shoulders he pins Dean to the wall behind them.

“Tell me that you love me.”

Dean blinks in confusion. “We don’t have time for this.”

Castiel slams him back into place. “Tell me that you love me!”

“You know I do.”

“Say it.”

“I _do_ love you Castiel.”

Castiel let’s himself forget where they are. That Dean’s words aren’t really real.

Then he kisses Dean, letting their lips move together in a way he’d never thought he’d get to experience. In a way that really does make him really forget.

_‘That’s when I’ll come…’_


	16. I’m Friends With The Monster That’s Under My Bed

Dean stares at him wide eyed, with flushed lips and a slack jaw. The sounds of the battle have ceased, leaving them all in deadly silence.

“Castiel.” The voice is ethereal… but entirely recognisable to him.

“Shadow.” He says, letting his eyes flit across to Chuck and Sam.

“You’ve come for me?”

“No.”

Castiel draws a surprised breath. His eyes darting around, distraught. “Then who?”

His eyes land on something just behind Castiel. “Dean.” Castiel moves to block him immediately.

“Excuse me!” Chuck snaps, gesturing to Sam. “We’re in the middle of something. Why don’t you just go back to sleep?”

The Shadow turns to look at Chuck, who stiffens with the attention. He smiles and wordlessly turns back to Castiel.

“There’s someone who wishes to see you.”

“Jack.” He breathes.

…

Dean finds himself in a place so black that Cass’ coat is barely visible.

“Cass?” he calls trying not to panic. This is The Empty. This is what waits for him after death. Nothing. At least in Hell he could see. At least in Hell he didn’t feel like he was falling… like nothing around him was real. “Cass?” he calls again, more frantically this time.

He feels something grab his arm and he gasps in surprise. “Dean.”

Panting, he latches onto Cass’ arm tightly. “I can’t see.” His voice trembles more than he’d like it to.

“It’s okay Dean I have you.”

Dean nods, relieved.

Then it hits him, what had led them here in the first place. “How did you know that kissing me would summon the Shadow?” It had a been a shock. One that opened a can of worms in Dean’s mind that had long expired. Cass’ lips on his weren’t repulsive. They made Dean feel loved. Made him forget it all.

“I made a deal.” Castiel states. Like he’s stating that the grass is green and the sky is blue. And the worst part is… Dean should have known. Nothing ever comes free. If there were any ground under his feet, it would have fallen away in that moment. “With the Shadow. For Jack.”

“Damn it Cass.” He yells. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I knew that the conditions of the deal would never be met.”

“So – so this thing made a deal with you that if I kissed you and said ‘I love you’ that it’d come and cart you away?! What the fuck kind of shit is that?”

“No Dean. It said it would come for me when I became truly happy.” He hearts the tremble in his friend’s voice. “And he knew – after looking in my mind and memories – my emotions – that only one thing would ever do that.”

Dean clutches his hand tighter. “You – you don’t mean…”

“The one thing being that you love me. In the same way that I love you. Or – thinking that you do.”

Dean is speechless, stunned. “I didn’t – I didn’t – Cass I never could have – there is no way I could have known. That – that you…”

“Are in love with you.” He hears the resignation in his friend’s voice. “I was never disillusioned Dean. I knew you were incapable of loving me in that capacity. But I told you before. Quite clearly, I said: ‘I love you.’”

Could one die in the empty? Dean feels he might. His brain might explode from obliviousness. Cass is in love with him.

“In the barn.” He whispers. “How long?”

“What do you think, Dean?” And a decade of memories bombard him. The times they spent together. The way Cass always chose them. _Always. _The things he did to protect them, even when it meant destroying himself. The way he stood too close. The way his eyes would darken when Dean picked up a chick at a diner. He’s been there for years feeling tortured and used and Dean made it that much harder to be. No wonder he left so much. Because he couldn’t stand it. Wanting and being denied constantly. And Dean had taken it all for granted. Used him until he was too spent to bear a second more.

“I’m sorry.” He says, shame coating his voice.

“Dean. You have nothing to apologise for.” Castiel’s voice is smooth. But Dean recognises the false calm; he taught it to him after all. “I never said anything in our earlier years to… preserve our bond. But now that it’s all out. Could you love me?”

“I do love you.” he says. “But not like that. Though I wish I could.”

His friend sighs and Dean swallows. He does wish he could love Cass in the way he wants him too. But he can’t.

He wants to say more. To reassure his friend. Or even for the sake of just _saying_ something, but in a flash Dean finds himself in a familiar place. One that brings back memories of the last time Cass died. “This is Billie’s library.”

“Cass?” Dean would know that voice anywhere. And he doesn’t know how to describe his emotions as Cass breaks away from him and rushes over to Jack, embracing him tightly.

Bille touches his shoulder with her scythe. “Now that we’re all here. We have a plan to discuss. Your brother is holding his own for now. But he needs our help.”

Dean mentally scoffs as he stares at their quorum of five: Death, The Shadow, a Nephilim, an Angel and a human with Archangel grace.

“Go Team Free Will 4.0?” he says weakly.


	17. Locking Each Other In Cages, Throwing Temper Tantrums, The Cosmic Family Business

“I just want to chuck my brother into a cage and sleeeep.”

Dean’s mouth just about falls open. “Chuck is your brother.”

“Annoying baby brother.” it corrects.

As Dean continues to stare in amazement it shrugs. “What did you think wretched human? Before the darkness and certainly before the light… what was there? Before this great ‘Big Bang’ you humans are obsessed with?”

Eyes widening he nods. “Nothing. The Empty.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!”

He glances over to Jack and Cass wishing there could be more time to talk. To comfort his friend. To find a way to get him out of his deal which he’s pretty sure the Shadow is itching to collect on, given the way it leers at him.

“What are you doing about Cass?” he asks. Cass glances away.

“As much as I _long_ to rip him away from you… he never truly forgot about me. He used the deal to summon me and while I allowed that to workkkk… it’s so much better if I wait till he’s actually happy. So happy he’s forgotten all about little ole me.” he grins. “I am patient when I want to be.” He glares menacingly at Castiel.

“Now that we’ve completed this little meet and greet.” Billie says drily. “It’s time to get down to business. We’re waking everyone up.”

Dean frowns, about to wonder why they need humans awake when the Shadow interjects. “The angels and demons.” He bites out. “What do you even see in him Castiel.” Not even as beat passes before he starts talking again. “You know that… I don’t even want to know.”

“I suddenly get why it’s in everyone’s best interest to sing you a lullaby.” Dean snips, purposefully antagonising him.

“Watch your mouth little spec.” he warns. “You come to me when you die.”

“And woe onto you.” Dean says menacingly. If Billie or anyone else thinks they’re just going to go gentle into that good night just because they joined the team… they’ve got another thing coming.

“What about Sam?” Dean wonders.

“We sent him a little back up.” Billie says with a smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asks, suspicious.

“His female. Eileen has joined him.”

“What?”

Billie pins him with a glare. “Yes. She’s a ghost but it gives him a bit more power on his side. Plus, the archangel Gabriel has already been revived.”

“Gabe is down there with him?” As much as Dean hated the little trickster, he couldn’t help but mourn his passing, especially given that he did it for them. Because they forced him to. Knowing that he’s fighting Chuck by Sam’s side takes a huge weight off his shoulder.

“We need to wait here until all the creatures in the empty have woken.” Billie says. “That may take a while, since someone…” She glares at them. “Has severely depleted my battalion of reapers.”

Dean chooses not to reply to that.

“Just hurry it up.” Dean notices that the Shadow talks in short, brisk sentences. Like he can’t wait to just get out of here and jump into bed.

It catches Dean’s eye, it’s shape suddenly changing. “Do you prefer me in this form?” he taunts, running it’s fingers through its blonde hair and heart shaped face.

“Not in ten billion years.” he spits in disgust.

Shuddering, he pushes away from the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cass watching him. Dean keeps walking and Cass turns to Jack. Dean disappears into the library. Maybe he can find something useful in Billie’s books.

He wanders for… hours perhaps. Time is irrelevant here, he knows.

He senses Cass before he sees the man’s shadow appear.

“Dean.”

“Cass.”

He hates that it suddenly feels so strained between them. They just got back to normal after all. And he hates that a small part of him blames Cass for his feelings. It’s stupid… irrational… but he can’t deny that it would be easier.

“They’re bringing everyone back.” He whispers.

The pain in Cass’ eyes strike him like a blow. “It’s – it’s the final show-down. All hands on deck.”

“Dean I killed them… some in cold blood.” He wraps his arms around himself as his voice grows smaller. “Those were my friends… my brothers. I – They will kill me and… I may let them.”

“What?” His confession numbs him. Dean never once thought about it that way.

Dean reaches forward, laying a hand on Cass’ chin. “You don’t deserve to die. It wasn’t your fault.” The breath is knocked out of Dean as Cass crushes him against him. In a much softer voice he whispers a promise: “I won’t let you die Cass.”


	18. I Wish I Could

  
Dean releases Castiel reluctantly, his hands lingering on the edges of his trench coat. 

"You know I meant it right?" He finds himself asking. 

"What do you mean Dean?"

"That I wish I could." He breathes out. And its true. By the look on Cass' face, he knows exactly what Dean is talking about... the words left unspoken.

'I wish I could love you.'

"This could be our last night on earth."

Cass' head jerks up, "We're not on earth." He blurts.

Chucking, Dean slips his hands behind his neck. "Can you ignore commonsense for just a minute."

"I think that can be arranged." Cass says cheekily.

"Good." Dean says, "last night on earth." He repeats.

"Indeed." Cass says, eyes drooping, "Also known as your best line."

"Is it working?" Dean's heart is thundering in his chest. If it isn't working on Cass, its certainly working on him.

"This is just... just a one time thing?"

Dean doesn't reply. Cass knows.

Swooping down, Dean presses his lips to Cass' moving slowly this time and letting him enjoy. He licks and nips and threads their fingers tightly together. If they don't survive, at least Cass will have this. A moment where he and Dean could be together in privacy. Shrouded by the books depicting the death of some poor soul.

Cass is the one to break away, leaving Dean completely breathless. 

"Thank you Dean." 

...

Castiel watch numbly as he walks away. Its hard to watch him leave after their lips had been locked not ten seconds ago.

He thinks the room is noticeably darker, as though Dean took the light with him when he went away.

A loud clap startles him. "Bravo Castiel." A voice booms from the darkness.

Castiel squints. Be knows that voice. 

"Balthazar."

"You and the human." Balthazar grins stepping out from behind a self. "You're still the angel in the dirty trench coat who's in love with him."

He feels obligated to reply. He had killed him after all. "Yes."

"Now he loves you too."

"No." He says, with more bite than warranted. "I'm sorry Balthazar I-" 

His friend chuckles. "Hardly the worst thing you've done."

Castiel ducks his head in shame.

"Hey, I didn't say it to make you feel bad."

"Why are you here?"

"I've come to join your rebellion... again" he smirks. "Maybe this time I'll even make it out in one piece."

Warily, Castiel observes his friend. "You should hate me."

"I should." He agrees. "But you hate yourself enough for both of us."

"Do the others feel the same way?"

"Some." Balthazar says diplomatically. 

"We need someone to rally them." Castiel says.

"Someone like me." Balthazar offers, puffing his chest up.

"I think... he was talking about me."

Both Castiel and Balthazar turn to greet this new figure. 

But Castiel knows... there's only one angel that short and sassy: Gabriel.


	19. Good Morning Vietnam!

Good Morning Vietnam!

Castiel sticks close to Balthazar and Jack, despising the fact that Dean insists on standing near the Empty. He truly doesn’t understand what he thinks Dean can do in the face of a cosmic entity, but h does know better than to provoke Dean right now.

Things are still strained between them, even after the kiss – especially after the kiss. At least, on Castiel’s end. He doesn’t know what impact – if any – their moment had on Dean.

There are more pressing issues to deal with though, such as the host of resurrected angels who stare at him like they’re seconds away from ripping them apart.

“Relax Cass.” Balthazar assures. “Your boyfriend won’t let anything happen to you.”

His eyes dart to Dean, who obviously heard Balthazar’s reckless comment and is bothered by it. Jabbing Balthazar in the ribs, he turns away from them both.

Gabriel stands at the head of the table, for the first time in ages, looking like the archangel he is. It’s strange to see him like this – actively taking command, rather than trying to shirk his responsibilities. Castiel half hopes that Gabriel convince them that killing him shouldn’t be high on their priority lists.

“You say they brought us back to help.” Raphael barks. “But what help will we be when we can’t even trust those around us.” The other angels nod. “The first order of business should be making an example of _Castiel._”

“You’re just bitchy cause he exploded you like an over-inflated balloon.” Dean’s voice cuts through the angels’. They can see Michael’s grace swirling around inside Dean, just as he can. Michael is their strongest fighter, their leader for millennia. When he speaks, all of heaven stands in silence. When his perfect vessel speaks, they will listen.

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it!” Raphael blusters. “He’s killed thousands of angels and never faced any consequences! That should n-”

“Silence.” Jack’s eyes glow with power. “_No one_ will lay a hand on Castiel or the Winchesters. Do I make myself clear?”

Silence.

Jack cocks his head. “Do I?”

Raphael scowls, but backs down.

“Good.” Jack clasps his hands together, smiling brightly. “Now, let’s talk about the plan.”

…

Dean corners him after the meeting, practically ripping Balthazar from his side. “You okay?” Dean’s voice is low.

Castiel just gives a short nod.

“No you’re not.” Dean sighs, “Angels are dicks.” He repeats what must be his favourite saying. “But you still have friends. Balthazar. Gabe. That Benjamin guy you insisted that I was so much like.” he winks. “And maybe Anna’s hovering somewhere around the place too.”

Wincing at that, Castiel glances, hoping that he doesn’t see her tell-tale red hair. Finding out that she slept with Dean had given him his first taste of jealousy. He’d hated it then and he certainly hates it now.

Catching on to that, Dean mutters a short apology. “Hey. Do you think this plan has a shot?”

He considers this, “It’s not really much of a plan is it?” his voice is wry. “It more of a ‘hit him with all you’ve got,’ type of thing.”

Dean shrugs. Castiel can tell he isn’t putting much stock into that plan, but it’s the best they got. “I just – I know it’s worked before. But this is God, Cass.” He sighs. “Maybe we beat him like this and maybe we don’t. Maybe he sees up coming from a mile away. I’m just sayin’ I don’t like how exposed this plan leaves us.”

…

Dean blows out a breath. It feels good to get that off of his chest. But surrounded by the thousands of angels and cosmic entities, he felt a little… redundant. Billie only brought him anyway because he has Michael’s powers. But he can’t put that shit on Cass right now, when all the angels and demons are gunning for them.

He thinks it’s strange that Billie carted away all the demons to do who knows what. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth but she vanished before he could argue.

“Dean…” Dean scowls immediately. He knows that cautiously probing tone. He knows what’s about to come next.”

At the same time Cass says: “I think it should be me, taking the mark.” The “No.” is already past his lips.

“Dean.” Cass protests.

“Nuh-uh.” Dean stops him. “We talked about this.”

“We talked about this before you knew all the details.”

“Oh?”

Cass raises a brow. “My deal? With the Shadow? Does that ring a bell?”

“Yes Cass.” He suddenly feels angry all over again. That Cass hadn’t told him. That there’s no way to fix this. “It does ring a bell. A loud… blaring… alarm bell!” he huffs.

Calm as ever, Cass shakes his head. “Then you realise why I’m the better choice.”

“Are you even for-”

A loud confrontation cuts Dean off.

“This ain’t over pal.”

Cass squints at him. “Not by a ‘long shot.’”

Again? With the air quotes?

All thoughts of Cass’ air quotes and shots fly out the widow as he sees what’s at the centre of the brawl. It’s Lucifer, pinning Gabriel against the table with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Well… well… well.” He tightens his grip, before booming loudly: “Good morning Vietnam!”


	20. A Shoulder To Lean On

Dean stands by his side, his shoulder stiff despite their obvious advantage.

“You have Michael remember.” Cass whispers. “You and Gabriel will be able to over power him.”

But Dean remains frozen.

“Ah! Look at you all! Running around like headless ducks! And you have to admit – finally – that I was right and you were wrong.”

Silence.

A figure pops up next to him causing them all to jump. “What?” Crowley says smugly. “You never saw a demon fresh out of the Empty?”

The noise causes Lucifer’s gaze to swing to them. His eyes flash red and he prowls through the crowd. “You.” he says, pointing at Castiel.

Dean is suddenly edging between him and Lucifer. “Watch it.” he says lowly, his voice thrumming with a confidence he didn’t feel seconds ago.

“You only think you’re all that because Michael is riding around in you.” he says petulantly. “Hey Mikey!” he waves at Dean.

…

After the tense moment diffused by way of Billie suddenly appearing and announcing that no one would be ‘in charge’ but her, Dean turns on his heel and marches away.

Castiel only hesitates a moment before following him.

Dean marches past rows and rows of Billie’s shelves before coming to a stop abruptly. Castiel has to prevent his shoes from screeching against the ground.

Dean lowers himself slowly and Castiel can feel his breath coming out in harsh pants.

For a brief moment he wonders if Dean is better off by himself. But his feet have a mind of their own. He finds himself crouched next to Dean, his fingers tentatively reaching out for his shoulder.

Dean’s heads is buried between his knees and by the depth and strength of his breaths, he figures Dean is on the verge of tears. Dean… who he’s never seen crumble… Dean… who has always greeted Death with a cocky grin. He’s on the verge of sobbing.

“I can’t do this.” He exhales, his words lost in the spaces between his knees.

“Yes you can.” He assures.

“No.” Dean’s entire body trembles. “Lucifer is out there.”

“We beat him before.” He says in a firm voice.

“But at what cost?” Dean’s breath hitches. “No matter the cost – our lives – someone we care about – he always finds his way back. Cass it took almost t-ten years to be completely rid of him.”

“Don’t give up.” he’s never seen Dean like this before.

“They’re all back Cass.” He lifts his head to stare at Castiel. Tears shimmer in his eyes. “Every demon – every angel. Our entire lives – hunters’ lives – just undone with a snap. How is that fair?”

Logically he knows bringing everyone back was necessary but Dean doesn’t need logic right now. He needs someone to lean on.

Gripping Dean’s knee harshly he ducks his head to catch Dean’s gaze. “It does matter. _You_ matter. It isn’t fair but when has anything ever been. You taught me that you have to fight for your freewill!” And now he’s remind Dean… that he shouldn’t give up. That he has people who care for him.

“We can do this.”

Dean presses a hand to his mouth.

“We can do this.” He repeats with conviction, even as Dean’s body shakes with the force of his sobs. Castiel wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulder to bring his head to rest on Castiel’s chest. “We can do this. Even if you don’t believe me yet.”

“T-There’s just _so_ much happening. Sam is – Sam is battling for his life. You have this deal with the Shadow and all our enemies are back in black.”

“Our friends are back too.” he reminds.

Dean sniffles against his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He whispers. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And though he doesn’t want to, the feel of Dean’s head on his chest fills him with a kind of satisfaction. That Dean trusts him enough to expose his raw emotions. That Dean doesn’t feel the need to hide from him anymore. And pride, that he was able to say the right words to calm him and bring him out from his pit of doubt.

He feels _needed._ Wanted, even. And it’s one of the best feelings he’s had in a long while.

Dean doesn’t take his head off of Castiel’s chest for quite some time. And when he does, Castiel can sense reluctance on both their parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, I was so mad about something that I just forgot this open and unposted for the last four hours.


	21. Macho Man

Dean scrubs at his eyes, wanting to claw them out for what they just did to him. He can’t believe he just cried his eyes out on Cass’ shoulder like a weakling. He’d been so worried about Sammy and Chuck. All their old enemies back to bite them in the ass. Michael. Everything. He felt like he was drowning all over again. And he’d been selfish.

Like Cass doesn’t have enough problems of his own without his friend dumping his own shit on him.

“Shit.” He says, leaning away. He feels his eyes burning with tears again. Tears of shame. “Sorry man.”

“Dean.” Castiel’s tone is warning. “Don’t do this.” He pleads.

Dean chuckles wryly. “I already did this.”

“I mean…” he says slowly, gently, as though comforting a scared animal. “Don’t do this. Don’t pull away when you’re finally opening up to me.”

“That wasn’t opening up Cass.” He whispers. “That was me… dumping all my shit on you.”

Cass presses a hand to his knee. “I assure you. That wasn’t how I felt about it.”

“That’s not the point Cass.” He says bitterly. “I know that I did this to you. And – and you never do this to me. Not like that.”

“Of course I do.” He retorts.

“Name one time.” it’s childish and he knows it, but at this moment, he’s just miserable. He wants his bed and he wants for this to be over. But neither of those things are happening.

“I could name ten.” Cass says dryly, looking at him, unamused. “But I think I’ll just have to ‘even things out’ between us.”

“What?” Dean is almost amused. “You going to cry on my shoulder too?”

“No.” he says simply.

His head connects with the bookshelf with a thud as Cass slams their faces together. And by faces, Dean means lips.

It’s slower than the first time, infused with more passion and longing. Dean goes with the flow, letting his lips move in tandem with Cass’. He knows he should stop. But for some reason he doesn’t care about that; all his muscles are numb, with the exception of those on his face of course and his mind seems to have shut down completely.

How long it goes on for, Dean would never be able to say. What he does know, though, is that when Cass pulls away, pressing one last chaste peck onto his lips, Dean doesn’t feel himself cringe.

Cass takes his silence and stillness in stride, using the opportunity to stroke the wetness on his cheek.

“You’re allowed to be weak sometimes.” He murmurs. “And when you tell me, I can stay by your side.”

And that had been the problem hadn’t it. He’d expected Cass to sense the times when he was feeling low and maybe stick around. He never explicitly said anything, he just expected Cass to know… because he always seems _to_ know. Unfair as it may sound, that’s how it was.

“You can tell me too.” he whispers.

“I will.” Cass smiles at him, before his face turns serious. “But Dean, now that we’re even… we have to talk about something.”

“Oh?” What could it be now? Dean feels the exhaustion creeping back in.

“We never did finish our conversation earlier.”

He swallows. “The Mark.”

“Yes.” Cass is all business now. “The Mark. You can’t take it.”

“Cass… please…” he shakes his head. “I can’t fight with you right now. If you can’t tell, I’m barely holding it together here.”

“Which is why you can’t take it.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do.” Cass says firmly. “I can’t have you just running off and doing your own thing.”

He wants to argue that he can’t run off if he doesn’t even know how to leave, but Cass glare halts any comments.

“I handled this before. With Amara.”

“You didn’t handle anything.” Cass snaps. “And this time it isn’t The Darkness. It’s the light Dean. Who knows how your soul will react to the strain of containing something as volatile as The Light.”

“And what about your grace then?” he counters. “We don’t know anything. But Billie said it had to be me.”

“And you’re trusting her?” he demands.

Dean shrugs. “No. Of course not. But I don’t think even she will release a monster pumped up on God juice into the world.”

“I don’t want you to do this.” Cass says. “You know where this ends if something goes wrong.”

Swallowing against the sour taste in his mouth he tries to forget the sound of his fists pounding against the wall, saline water filling his lungs.

The Ma’lak Box.

“I know.”

“And you know… I won’t be the one to put you in there Dean. I just can’t.”

And Dean finally understands why. He doesn’t disrespect Cass by saying the words, or use it as leverage. In fact, when he tries to find something appropriate to say, he comes up blank. Because, he realises, if their places were reversed… he would never be able to put Cass in the box either.


	22. The Accounts Of Jack

“Cass?” Jack’s voice breaks him out of his daze. It’s been days since that moment in the library and he hardly has any time to see Dean, much less talk.

Billie decided that Castiel should remain with Jack to prepare him for the battle and that Dean should help her reign in the rogue demons. Few were willing to risk a smiting from Michael, who’s grace is clearly visible past Dean’s soul.

“Something happened while I was gone.” He says carefully.

Something _had_ happened.

Castiel can feel the difference in his aura. A once vibrant personality had been pounded into something frail and volatile. He hates those who had let it happen and he hates himself for not being there to stop it.

“Lots of things happened.” He says carefully.

“No.” Jack says briskly. Getting straight to the point as he always does. At least that is still the same. “You… and Dean.” He says, watching Castiel’s expression carefully. “Something changed between you two. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?” he asks worriedly. Dean is insistent on acting as they usually do in public. On breaks though, they both make a quick escape into the library and spend a few moments together. Sometimes they sit in silence; back to back, their heads resting together. Other times Dean would lie in his lap, or he’d lay his head on Dean’s chest.

Those moments were brief, but they are the only thing keeping Castiel going under such pressure.

“Be careful Cass.” Jack says. “Your deal.”

“I know.” His voice lowers. “But you should know. Dean and I … he doesn’t feel that way. He was very clear about that.”

“Not to me.” Jack says. “And certainly not to anyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“The angels know.” Jack says. “And the demons suspect. The Shadow is flitting around. He sometimes tries to follow you when you go on your secret meetings with Dean.”

Castiel fights the flush creeping up his neck. He hadn’t realised that Jack knew about that.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad.” Jack tell him gently. “I just… don’t want him to take you. Dean wouldn’t either. So you can’t ever forget this deal okay?”

“I won’t” he assures.

Jack lets out a harsh breath. “Good.” He states. “Then there’s something I have to tell you. Two somethings actually.”

“Okay.” He steels himself.

“Billie says we’re making the move soon. And… that Sam is in trouble.”

Castiel freezes. “You know I can’t keep this from Dean right.”

“I know.” Jack says. “I want you to tell him.”

He swallows, knowing that Jack is leaving the worst for last.

“Dean is in love with you.”

Whatever he had expected to hear… it wasn’t that.

“Jack… I just told you-”

“I don’t care what he says.” Jack says evenly. “Now, I can see things clearly. My … powers of perception if you will. He’s in love with you.”

“N-”

Jack holds up a hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to fight about this. But Cass, he’s going to figure it out soon and when he does… you’ll know. But you can’t. He won’t tell you but you would be able to tell. You just can’t ever let him know that you know he knows.”

He wants to protest more. Tell him that Dean doesn’t love him. Not like that.

But he knows Jack.

He wouldn’t say something this hurtful without cause.

But he can’t think about that now… or that Dean might actually be in love with him. He has to tell Dean about Sam.

He won’t keep a secret like this again.


	23. Vacation Interruptus

Dean shuts his eyes.

“Amara.” He says, putting as much intent into the word as he can.

It’s all he has to say before a burst of power fills the room.

He hadn’t expected her to really be in Reno. But the sunglasses, yellow purse and yoga pants tell a different story.

“Dean.” She says brightly. “I’m missing pilaties for you.”

He chuckles despite himself.

“I have a favour to ask you.”

“Oh?” she says in a disinterested tone. “I doubt there’s much you can’t do what with Michael hitching a ride in you.”

“Don’t make it sound so disgusting.”

She laughs.

“It’s Chuck.” He says with a sigh. “Cass says he has Sam.”

“Castiel?” Amara’s voice raises with interest.

“Can you help him?” Dean asks, “Please.” He tacks on.

Amara rolls her eyes. “How can I refuse when you beg so nicely.” She says.

Obviously she doesn’t know what real begging is. But Dean isn’t about to complain.

“So you’ll help him?”

“I prefer to stay out of my brother’s squabbles.” She admits. “But I would relish in seeing him flounder a bit.”

“Oh…” he almost swallows the question out of fear. What if she thinks he’s asking for too much and refuses to help him at all. It’s a risk… but he has to take it. “What do you know about the Shadow.”

Her lip curls. “Worse than Chuck as far as I’m concerned. The good thing is that he sleeps away the centuries. Sometimes we even forgot he existed.”

“That’s … nice? But what about his deals. How is he with stuff like that?”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t make a deal with him did you?” her voice sends chills through him. The more time he spends in her presence, the more he thinks about how nice it would be to give in to her. Let her show him peace.

“I didn’t.” he says It isn’t technically a lie.

“Of course.” She says sarcastically. “I’ve never known him to make any deals. With anyone. So he must either like them very much, or not at all.”

Dean guesses that it’s the not at all option.

“And… inside you…” he feels like an ass for even considering this. “Is it really peaceful?”

“There’s only calmness. All your worries… vanish.” Suddenly she’s beside Dean, her breath ghosting up his neck. “You would be safe from my brothers in me.”

He shudders. “And is that paradise limited to only souls?”

Amara pulls back to regard him. “Castiel. This is for Castiel.”

“Yeah.” He breathes hoping that she won’t rescind the offer.

“You know you won’t ever see him again.” She says after a pregnant silence. “Unless you join him in me.”

“I know.”

She smiles at him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “See you soon Dean. I’m off to save your brother.”


	24. The Good, The Bad and The Down Right Nasty

Castiel makes his way to Dean slowly, a strange sort of reluctance, slowing him down.

Maybe it’s because he remembers what Amara can do to Dean. How powerless he’d been in her presence.

Telling Dean about Sam had been one of the hardest things he’d done. Dean had been enraged. At Billie, at The Shadow and everyone else who kept it from him. But he hadn’t been angry at Castiel. They sat together for a long time before Dean finally sighed and closed his eyes.

_“Amara.” He had said._

_Castiel felt a chill spread throughout the room. A calling from one kindred soul to another._

_“Where are you going?” Dean asks._

_“I should be here when she is.”_

_The question ‘why?’ lingers in Dean’s eyes._

_“She doesn’t like me very much Dean.”_

_“If you think it’s safer then.” _

“Dean?” he steps out from the behind the shelves. The letter ‘L’ stares back at him and directly under it, is Dean.

That letter had become their spot. Smack dab in the middle of the library, it was unlikely that anyone would find them here. It’s where they had come that first night and it turned into an unofficial meeting spot of sorts.

“She’s going to try.” Dean says. His arms are still folded and his posture stiff.

“That’s good news right?” he prods.

“Yeah.” Dean says shortly, glancing down at his shoes. “Somethin’s wrong though. I can feel it in my blood.”

Castiel nods, he can feel it too. The air of deception. The sense that something is about to explode and bury them once more.

Keeping the peace between the angels and demons was hard enough as it is. But he knows that that isn’t the real source of his unease.

Even Jack, seems to be keeping something from him. But that part, he can keep to himself for now.

“We’ll figure it out Dean, like we always do.”

“Yeah.” Dean looks like he wants to say something more, but he bites down on his lip.

“Did… anything else happen?” the real meaning of the question is clear, he can tell by the sharp inhale that comes from Dean.

“No.” he says lowly, “I felt the pull of course, but I didn’t let myself get dragged in.”

“Good.” Castiel breathes in relief. “Did she ask for anything in return?”

“Nah.” Dean says dismissively.

A comfortable silence falls between them.

“But I did.” He says in a rush, breaking the ambiance.

“What?”

“I asked her for something.”

“Dean…” How could he be so stupid? “What did you ask her for.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Dean, I thought we were over this.”

A hand combs through his hair in frustration. “It isn’t – I can’t tell you right now. But when you find out…”

Unfolding his arms, Dean steps closer to him, straight into his personal space. His intense stare bores into Castiel. “Just know that it’s because I – because you mean something to me.”

“Dean…”

“Sometimes I think I should stay away from you.”

Castiel can’t hide the fear in his eyes at that suggestion.

“But don’t worry Cass, I’m never leaving you.”

And for some reason that sounds daunting…

What has Dean done?

…

Dean straightens his back and hardens his expression as he makes his way out of the maze of bookshelves. He hates lying to Cass, but he can’t let any emotion show while dealing with demons. It was the first rule he learnt as a torturer in hell. Don’t let them see that hurting them hurts you just as much.

“Dean.” He falters, his powers already simmering at the tips of his fingers.

“Dean relax.”

He huffs out a breath and wilts. “Jack.”

“I need to talk to you.” he says seriously.

…

Castiel mopes his way back to the main room.

“Why do glum Cassie?” Balthazar questions, sticking to his side like glue. “Dean didn’t put out today or something?”

“Balthazar!” he hisses.

“What?” his friend asks innocently, “There’s not much entertainment here. And it’s not like any of us can leave.”

“Well I’m sorry if planning a war against the most powerful being in the world is too constricting for you.” Gabriel snips, barging in between them. “And I’m sorry if training is cutting into Castiel and Dean’s make out time.”

“They do a _lot_ more than making out.” Balthazar waggles his eyebrows.

“We do not – none of what he just said.” Castiel blubbers.

Dean _had _ kissed him though. Multiple times, but always with a warning before. It was… terrible. Knowing that they were pity kisses and not the real thing. They had done nothing at all for his feelings.

Feelings he should be trying his best to detach himself from. He’s seen the lecherous looks the Shadow has thrown his way. He knows he’s on the precipice and that one light breeze will blow him over. But does it matter? The nothingness that follows the fall could be worth it… if only to get that one moment with Dean.

But his moments with Dean may be numbered as they head into battle. Despite Michael, Dean can die. He hadn’t missed the way Raphael and Lucifer eye him whenever he comes by. Castiel imagines them getting their hands on an archangel blade… he imagines them killing Michael and then, while Dean is recovering…

So many creatures are just lying in wait, for the opportunity to kill Dean Winchester. And now Castiel has something else to worry about; Dean trying to kill Dean.


	25. ‘L’ Stands For…

Dean closes his eyes. He hadn’t spoken to Jack since his return. He sees the difference in his features now. His mouth tilted downward when he once always smiled. His eyes worn and empty – soulless.

“Dean.” He says, shifting slightly. “I missed you and Sam very much.”

Despite himself, he’d missed Jack too. Once the blinding rage had worn off… well, he hadn’t been forgiving, but he _had _missed what they were and what they had.

“What did you want to talk about?” he says instead.

“Castiel.” Jack says quietly. “You know about his deal.”

It makes Dean’s stomach churn, just thinking about it. “Yeah.”

“They why aren’t you staying away from him?” Jack demands. “You’re being selfish Dean. You need to stop.”

“Me?” He demands indignantly. “We keep each other sane.” He argues. “Cass needs me.”

“Maybe he does.” Jack says. “But sometimes we shouldn’t get everything that we want.”

“What about you huh?” Dean demands, feeling his anger rise again. “You’ve been here for weeks! Have you even left your high horse to ask the Shadow to let him out of this deal. He made it for you.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Jack says, his voice raising. “I love Castiel. I would give anything for him. But the Shadow is unwavering.”

“Then let’s kill him.” Dean says. “If you got the juice to kill Chuck, then this guy shouldn’t be too far off.”

“You know we need him Dean.”

Right. Dean runs a hand through his hair. “I might have something though. I talked to Amara. She might have a way. It’s not perfect but it’s better than the alternative.”

Jack narrows his eyes at that. “What is it?”

“Not yet.” He says, shaking his head. “I don’t know if Cass will go for it.”

“Dean.” Jack says, his voice swift and crisp. “I know I’m not your favourite person. But what I’m telling you this for Castiel. I want to keep him safe. And maybe the safest place for him… isn’t at your side.”

Jack’s eyes soften at whatever Dean’s expression must be. “Dean.” He says gently. “I know this is hard for you too. I felt the depth of your connection to Cass when I called out to him. And in the months after, I saw it for myself. Do you know why I bothered to bring him back?”

Dean always assumed it had been an accident. That Jack had just yearned to meet Cass, the parent who died before he was born, but who he had promised a perfect future.

“I could feel your grief Dean.” Jack says, his expression pinched. “ I could feel the longing radiating off of you in waves. At the time it hadn’t made sense. But when he came back… the way everything changed for you. That’s when I figured out _your_ feelings Dean. Maybe _you_ don’t even know what it is yet. But I do.”

Dean blinks, in shock. He wants to say something to defend himself.

‘I’m not in love with him.’

‘We’re just friends.’

But Dean knows at least one of those isn’t true anymore.

Now, he doesn’t kiss Cass out of some misguided obligation. He kisses him because he likes the way it makes him feel; safe, secure, loved.

Dean’s mind races. He hadn’t given his feelings much thought. But that doesn’t mean…

“Cass knows you better than I do.” Jack continues, oblivious to Dean’s mental anguish. “What do you think will happen when he figures it out too?”

“I’m not in love with him.” Dean blurts. The force of his panic has Michael stirring inside him.

Jack sighs.

…

Castiel stares at the ‘L’ marking their meeting spot.

So many names here. Of people who had died and people who were yet to meet their fate.

“Cass.” Dean’s voice startles him.

When Dean approaches, his shoulders are hunched and his eyes unfocused.

“Any word on Sam?” he asks. Castiel isn’t sure how much time has passed in the real world. If Chuck had managed to pin Sam, he would inflict terrible torments. He just hopes that Amara will make good on her promise.

Dean shakes his head dejectedly.

“Sam is a survivor.” He states, injecting some confidence into his words. “He will make it.”

Dean nods once more. “He better.”

“Hey Cass.” Dean says. “I don’t want to think about Sam right now. It’s been driving me crazy.”

He can only imagine how hard this has been for Dean. The older brother who always rushes to Sam’s aid, even at the expense of himself. To be trapped and removed from his brother’s troubles completely must take a catastrophic toll on his psyche.

“Then let’s do something else.” He says.

Dean smiles lightly. “Jack says I should stay away from you.”

Castiel swallows. He feels his blood boil. What right does Jack have to do this? But he knows it’s coming from a good place. He had always known Dean was his weakness; he’s just trying to protect him.

It makes sense too.

But Castiel can’t.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t want to.” Dean admits. “But how do you feel about your deal?”

“What?”

“You know… do you feel any closer to being taken?”

Castiel shakes his head. He can’t remember feeling worse. The constant paranoia that covers him like a cloak, the hollow feeling when Dean’s lips press against his. The angels mock him constantly.

Years had passed and he had still failed to gain the attention of a simple minded human.

But to be without Dean completely?

“Dean you… can’t abandon me now.” It sounds as desperate as it is but Castiel can’t find the will to care.

Dean’s eyes flash with determination. “I won’t. I swear.”


	26. My Hero

“Dean.” The voice is soft and it carries. Though, no one else seems to hear it. Crowley takes the chance to jab him in the ribs. Dean stumbles and returns the favour, kicking him directly in his smug little mouth.

“Time out.” He says quickly, marching away.

He knows that voice.

Amara.

His heart hammers as he wanders through the shelves, using their connection as his guide.

“Amara?” he calls. “Where are you?”

“Dean.” A new voice comes from behind him. It’s weaker than he’s accustomed to hearing. But he’d know that voice anywhere.

He turns, facing his brother. “Sammy.” He pulls him into a hug, letting out a sigh of relief that ruffles Sam’s hair. “You’re okay.” He breathes, running his hands over Sam’s torso, feeling for blood or broken bones.

He sees movement out of the corner of his eye. At first he thinks the figure is Amara, but looking closely, it’s Eileen.

Releasing Sam he steps back and nods to Eileen, raising his hands to sign a sloppy ‘hello.’

“You are okay?” he asks Sam again. It’s strange that Chuck had him for so long and had done nothing to him.

“I’ll live.” Sam says glumly.

It isn’t what Dean wants to hear, but it’s better than hearing nothing at all.

…

Amara doesn’t show her face and Dean doesn’t call out to her. He can sense her presence around him constantly. If she wanted to show herself, she would have.

Sam is still sketchy on what happened, and how long he had been in Chuck’s grasp.

The only details Dean had gotten were that Chuck had trapped him and Eileen and used them against each other. Something else must have happened, for Sam to withdraw so completely.

Eileen hasn’t been anymore forth coming in her information. Most times, she actively avoids Dean and sticks to Sam’s side like glue. Sam has refused visits from both Cass and Jack, saying that ‘he just isn’t ready to face them yet.’ Even with Dean, he seems withdrawn and shifty.

He’s gonna kill Chuck good and proper.

Or lock him away forever. Dean is suddenly delighted that he’s going to be the one to take The Mark. That he will be the last one to look Chuck in the eye before shutting him away for an eternity.

Dean fists his hands together.

_That’s when I figured out your feelings Dean. Maybe you don’t even know what it is yet. But I do._

It’s just stress, Dean tries to reason with himself. It’s just stress and his mind is automatically drawn to the one constant in his life. The person who had saved him from hell – literally.

Dean knows love.

He had loved Cassie.

He had loved Lisa.

And this sure as hell isn’t that.

…

Castiel catches Dean’s eye as he heads into the maze of shelves.

Behind him the other angels snicker.

“Poor Castiel. How far will he go for attention?”

“Doesn’t he understand that this human will never love him back?”

Dean’s eyes flash signifying that he is hearing every word. The other angels don’t take notice, but Castiel gives a small shake of his head.

_It’s not worth it._ He prays. _They’re not worth it._

It’s strange… being able to pray to Dean now. Well, Michael, but the words reach Dean nonetheless.

_I bet if I came over there, they’d all shut up._

He smiles at that. _Another time, maybe._

_Same spot?_ Dean asks.

Castiel rolls his eyes and Dean grins and waves before disappearing into the shelves. Castiel is just about to slip away when he sees Sam marching after Dean.

He hadn’t seen Sam leave his little pocket of space since his return. His new attitude had visibly rattled Dean, that much he knows. Now, he looks more like himself. A determined expression, shoulders squared and his hair no longer in a state of disarray.

He wonders if he should follow, now that he knows Sam is there too.

He misses Sam, and this may be the last chance for the three of them to be together for a while.

Decision made then, Castiel thinks as he follows Sam.

He wanders leisurely for a while, wanting to give Sam enough time to tell Dean whatever it is that he had wanted to. He seemed to be in a great rush.

When he reaches the letter ‘I’ he hears a clank and Castiel picks up the pace.

“Sam?” he calls into the darkness, raising his palm to light the way. “Dean?”

Had the Shadow cornered them? Had another angel?

But no, with Michael’s power, Dean would have no trouble dispatching them.

“I’m telling you we need to stop this right now.” Sam growls, his voice cracks, “I’ve seen where this ends. You’re in ruins Dean.”

“What goes so wrong?” Dean asks.

“You didn’t see what I saw.” Sam says reverently. “We win. But the monsters take over. We get completely overwhelmed. _You_ put Cass in a Ma’lak Box.”

Dean makes a choked sound. “I’d never do that.”

“Oh, but you did.” Sam says, his voice begging Dean to believe him. “And it destroyed you.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.” Dean argues. “We have a plan.”

“We always have a plan Dean. And the plan never works. I’m begging you, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to yourself.” Castiel steels himself as the sounds of Sam’s sobs echo through the library.

“What am I supposed to do then?” Dean asks brokenly.

“I don’t know Dean, but just don’t do this.”

“I’m taking The Mark.” Dean argues. “Not Cass.”

Sam laughs mirthlessly. “Do you really think that Cass will allow that?”


	27. I’m A Sucker For You

“Hi Dean.” Dean almost jumps out of his skin, he was so steamed over Cass and the other angels bothering him that he hadn’t noticed the surge of power in the room.

“Amara.” He breathes. “What are you doing?”

“Saving your ass – and your brother’s – on a medium day.” She says, eyeing Dean.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

“No thanks needed.” She replies, stalking closer. “I enjoyed it. Ruining my brother’s plans. It was fun.”

Dean laughs. “I gotta admit. I see the appeal.”

“Let’s stop playing around Dean.” She says, her voice cutting through his bravado.

Glancing up, she smiles at the large ‘L’ above their heads. “Nice meeting spot.” She says. “Cass is already on his way.” She pauses and glances around. “Scratch that. Sam’s on his way.”

“I don’t think seeing me with you is what he needs right now.”

She scoffs. “Understatement.”

“But, whenever you and Cass are ready…” her mouth ghosts over Dean’s. “I’m more than willing.”

…

“Do you really think that Cass will allow that?”

Dean huffs at Sam indignantly. “Since when is Cass the CEO of my life?”

He winces as he feel’s Cass shift in the periphery. Cass’ presence had been hovering for a while now. Dean almost hoped that he wouldn’t find him, that way he wouldn’t have to temper his reactions. But where in the high hell had Sam gotten the idea that he needs Cass’ say so to do something.

“That’s not my point.”

“It’s simple Sam.” He explains. “Cass isn’t taking the mark. I am. So I won’t lock him away and lose my mind.”

“You already had the Mark Dean.”

“Dude. Billie says Chuck has a… different aura or something.” Dean fumbles, because, in truth, Billie hadn’t really explained that part to him in details. “The Light cancels The Darkness. So with Michael in here with me, I’m good for taking the Mark of Whatever.”

“The Mark of Whatever.” Sam says, his words coated in sarcasm.

“Sammy.” Dean says, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Nothing’s happening right now. You need to rest… and Eileen needs you.”

That seems to have an effect. “Fine. Come find me when you’re done here, this isn’t over.”

Dean almost laughs. That’s the most ‘little brother’ thing he’s heard Sam say in a while.

“Hasta la vista.” He calls to Sam’s back.

A few moments pass.

“Dean?” Cass steps out from the shelves and makes his way over.

“You heard that?”

“I did.” Cass says. “And I think that –”

“Wait.” Dean says quickly, pressing a hand over Cass’ mouth. “I’m so tired, Cass. Hours and hours with those beasts. I don’t want to fight with you right now.”

The thing is, Cass looks ready to fight him; to pound him into the floor, but one blink later… his eyes are devoid of rage.

“Maybe we can spar later.” Cass suggests, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Dean chuckles. “Dude. You just can’t wait to beat the crap out of me can you?”

Cass grins innocently at him. “Maybe I can wait just a bit longer… if someone makes it worth my time.”

“Are you seducing me?” Dean blurts. This is a shocking turn of events. Dean is usually the one to initiate any sort of contact between them.

“I can see it’s working.” Cass says seductively.

Dean groans as hands slip under his shirt. “You know I’m a sucker for you.”

Cass press his lips to his, completely obliterating any thought in Dean’s mind.

“Dean, I was thinking… what are you even doing all the way back here any…way”

Dean’s eyes flash open, he almost chokes on Cass’ tongue.

“Well.” Sam says, filling the silence.

“Plot twist.”


	28. Procession of Doom

“Well.” Sam says, filling the silence.

“Plot twist.”

“This isn’t what it looks like.” Dean says in a rush. Cass looks at him strangely, because, how could this be anything other than what it looks like. “Okay. It’s exactly what it looks like. But I bet this isn’t what you’re _thinking_.”

Cass rolls his eyes, trying to act casual, hoping that maybe Dean can play it off. It’s worth a shot, but Dean’s pretty sure he isn’t that good. And… this is Sam.

Sam who is looking at them both with his jaw slack.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Cass asks, when it seems evident that Dean is about to do nothing.

First Jack corners him and accuses him of being in love with Cass and now his baby brother finds them mid liplock like a bunch of kids. What a life.

“This is a… new development.” Sam says carefully.

Not good. Not shocking. Not … any positive adjective out there.

“Aren’t you shocked out of your mind Sammy?”

Cass glares at him as though he lost his mind.

Sam just bobs his head back and forth.

“It’s … a change.” Sam says. “Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. Personal space.”

Dean does a double take at that. “Personal space?” he snaps, then, “Why aren’t you shocked? Why aren’t you at a total loss for words?”

Cass chimes in then and at least _he_ sounds shocked. “You expected this.”

Sam winces. “Expected?” He scrunches up his face in thought. “Not really. Hoped for? Rooted for? Prayed for? Those are in the right ball park.”

Dean wants to explode, like he was John Wick and someone just shot his puppy, but he finds himself captivated by the look of wonder on Cass face. It’s almost like he’s excited about this. Which, Dean can’t blame him for, cause he’s in love with Dean.

So why Dean excited? Why is his heart pounding away in his chest?

It must be nerves, or he’s still pumped from the kissing. Maybe it’s blinding rage, but he doesn’t see the telltale mist clouding his vision.

_Maybe it’s love_, the little voice in the back of his head whispers.

Dean tucks that voice right where it belongs; with Michael, locked away in the deepest recesses of his mind.

This isn’t the kind of attitude a soldier goes to battle with.

…

Castiel squares his shoulders as Dean leads the demons into the room.

Demons and angels packed together in a library. There’s a thing no one could have predicted. Sam gives a nod to Dean as he passes by, the brothers seemingly fine with everything that had transpired. Sam noticing means that … maybe.

Jack is nowhere in sight. Billie insisting that they keep him at the ready for when Chuck is at his weakest. The Empty though, it just lurks, prowling around the perimeter, licking its lips with every being that passes by. His eyes remained trailed on Castiel, more often than not. They look ravenous. Raedy to devour him.

But he won’t let that happen.

He won’t let go of the guilt and hatred he carries, no, he will hold them tightly to his chest until the day comes where the deal is either abolished, or the Shadow is lying dead on the floor.

“You know your places everyone.” Billie says, not bothering to announce her presence. “Our plan is to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Quick hits from the weaker ones. For the archangels and Knights of Hell, hold on as long as you can to buy the rest of us enough time. And I assure you all, when you die – and many of you will die – you won’t be sent to the Empty to be tormented. You will be reincarnated.”

Castiel frowns. He doesn’t like the thought of so many of his enemies remaining on the board even after their victory. But it’s only reasonable that they would need _some_ incentive to not botch the plan.

“In one minute, a portal will open. Then the battle will begin in earnest.”

With that Billie vanishes.

Castiel swallows as he tries to calm his nerves. This could be it for him, for Sam and Dean and Jack and if they lose, there’d be no way to bring them back.

“Hey Cass.” Dean says, clapping him on the shoulder. Dean’s face shows no signs of duress, his soul though, it darts around inside him.

His musings are cut short by a sneer from Haael. “Poor Castiel, desperate for any scraps his master will give him.”

Dean’s face changes.

“Relax.” Castiel warns. “We need them all.”

“We need them alright.”Dean mutters, “We need them all to see this goodbye kiss.”

The moment he nods his head, Dean’s lips crash to his, and either the euphoria blocks out all the noise, or a hush falls in Death’s Library.


	29. Say Cheese!

It’s pure chaos from the moment they step out of the portal.

Chuck is on a beach, wearing a wet suit and batting their armies away with a pink and green surfboard.

Even with their pure mass, it seems that Chuck is unphased by their tries. Even his favourites hadn’t made much of a dent. When Dean and the other three swooped down, Castiel watched with bated breath. But Chuck was so preoccupied with swatting the foot-soldiers away he failed to see the threat in the air. Sand exploded out of the area, with such force that everyone was knocked back.

Now, the entire beach is hushed as they wait to see what will rise out of the crater.

“I’m fine everyone!” Chuck announces loudly. “Thanks for asking.’

It’s at that moment when the lightning strikes him. Chuck groans and drops to his knees once more, and no one wastes a second before diving in.

Chuck tosses the angels and demons away steadily, though, this time, there seems to be more going in than coming out.

Castiel feels hope in his chest once more as he dashes into the foray, with Sam at his side wielding a special blade from Balthazar’s stash. He glances at Sam as they get closer to their target. Sam gives him a firm nod.

Swooping low and aiming for Chuck’s ankles, Castiel slashes and sends a pulse of energy that buckles one knee. Sam goes for his back, dragging the sword down his spine, leaving a trail of blood. But, as they move aside, ready to let another take their place, is when Chuck strikes.

He slaps Castiel across the face, pitching him into the water. He scrambles to his feet, despite the waves slowing him down, but he’s too far – even with his wings.

In a flash, Dean is there, slamming into Chuck with all his power. It works. It makes Chuck Drop Sam, but it leaves Dean vulnerable.

Castiel feels a new surge of power and an arm rests on his shoulder, “You mind if wrap this up early?”

“Do it.” Castiel says to Billie.

…

“You know, you’ve always sort of annoyed me Michael. I mean. You listened to me.” Dean grits his teeth as Chuck’s boot stomps down onto his brain with inhuman force. Without Michael he’s be a pancake right now.

In his periphery he sees Cass drag Sam’s unconscious form away from the action even as Gabriel and Raphael attack from above. Chuck bats them away, like flies, then he turns to Dean.

“You know I always liked you Dean. You were like Michael… but with more spunk.”

Chuck presses down sharply almost causing him to bite off his tongue.

“But do you k-”

A loud battle cry stops him mid rant. Chuck scowls.

“Could everyone shut up!” he screams.

Then the beach is plunged into a deathly silence.

“My time with Sam was very educational. Breaking his spirit filled my tank right up.” Chuck smiles and rubs his hands together. “Say cheese everyone.”

Then he snaps.


	30. Yin, Yang and The Space In Between

Dean screams as blinding pain shoots through him. Around him he can hear the screams of all the others. Their armies screaming… smoking out of their vessels only to explode… light streaming out of the angel’s eyes, their wings scorched into the sand.

His only thought is: Cass.

Surely he wouldn’t be spared from this.

A thud to his right all but confirms Cass’ death. It’s Lucifer’s burnt vessel. If Chuck hadn’t spared his favourite, then what hope could Cass have?

In that moment he wants to howl, not in pain, but with sorrow and heartbreak. Chuck can’t do this. Not when things with them were perfect.

Dean pounds the sand closest to Chuck’s boot, wanting to inflict any damage possible. But Michael is gone, Dean can feel it, and a human verses God is not battle at all.

“Hello.” It’s Jack’s voice.

Discombobulated, Dean tries to find his footing as he finds himself suddenly upright and sans dirty boot on his head.

Jack smiles sweetly at him.

Dean gives him a thumbs up signs, his eyes already scanning the beach for any signs of Sam.

His eyes widen. There are two figures left standing. One is a giant and the other wears a tan trench-coat.

Sensing his eagerness, or maybe wanting to distance him from the prize fight, Jack snaps his fingers, transporting Dean directly to Cass and Sam.

Cass’ eyes gleam as he appears. “Dean!” he says, embracing him instantly. “I thought he killed you.”

“Me too.” Dean whispers, patting his back and stepping away. “Now, let’s not get caught in the crossfire.

Dean feels pretty uneasy about Cass having to face Chuck all alone.

Billie appears behind Chuck, twirling her scythe. “It’s reaping time.” She says loudly, her voice carrying.

Dean, Sam and Cass share an uneasy look as two more bursts of power fill the area. It’s Amara and the Shadow.

A slow grin spreads across his face. Looks like it’s time for a family intervention.

The presentation they make is nothing short of chilling. Five powerhouses all dancing around each other.

A surge of confidence fills him. How can they lose? It’s four against one.

“You killed everything!” A voice shrieks. It takes Dean a moment to figure out that it’s the Shadow. “Bringing all these idiots back is gonna give me a migraine!”

“I live to torment brother.”

Amara scoffs. “You got that right.”

That’s when the show down begins in earnest.

Amara is the one who throws the first punch. A long, swirling stream of black smoke punches straight through Chuck as though he’s nothing but a piece of paper.

Tendrils of yellow power shoots out from Jack’s fingers, heading to the already weakened areas and digging in to the exposed flesh. Light seeps from Chuck as he throws his head back and screams.

The Shadow crouches on the ground, black sludge covering the area and creeping up Chuck’s leg, anchoring him in place.

Amara and the Shadow advance, each using their powers to pin Chuck in place as Billie tightens her grip on her scythe.

Three things all happen at once. Amara and the Shadow clutch their heads in pain, Chuck drops to the floor listlessly and Billie pulls another disappearing act, this time, taking Jack with her.


	31. Carry On ♪♫

“Is this it?” Sam asks, his eyes darting around in disbelief. “Did we win?”

His voice is the only thing to break the silence on the beach. Everything remains deceptively normal from the way the palm trees sway to the way the birds caw. The only sign of their battle left are the corpses of the angels and demons who fought with them. Castiel swallows, turning away from the gruesome sight and instead glancing over to Dean, who had almost been one of the corpses on this beach.

This isn’t like any victory he’s ever seen. Everyone is dead and Jack has disappeared along with Billie.

“Maybe…” Dean says slowly, his eyes still locked onto the main battle zone, looking for movement or any signs of life. “Maybe she reaped him. That’s why she couldn’t stick around.”

That’s very optimistic, though he supposes that there’s no other choice. It’s too calm to be anything else.

Amara is the only one left on the beach. And Dean is already half-way to her. Even from almost a hundred feet away he can see that her body is still smoking. He and Sam share a look and they both know what it means: that Dean isn’t in the right frame of mind to be around her alone right now.

Sam moves forward first, catching up to Dean quickly, in just a few long strides. He sees Dean stop to face Sam and he hangs back, keeping his distance. If anyone can talk him down from doing something stupid it’s Sam.

Instead, Castiel makes the most of his time by heading over to the pile of steaming bodies. He glances at Amara, her body still steaming, but, by the looks of it, slowly healing.

Chuck, on the other hand, is a pile of mangled flesh. The same goes for the Shadow, save that it’s turned mostly into black, murky goop.

In the end, it had helped them cross the finish line, killing the biggest bad of all who also turned out to be his brother. He had come true for them, letting Jack come back and saving Dean when Chuck’s powers began to overwhelm him. Yet, Castiel can’t help the grin that slides onto his face as his shoe brushes against its corpse.

Yes, he’s _happy_ that it’s dead, but he’s also happy that he can finally _be_ happy.

Sam and Dean are still conversing, though it looks much calmer this time, easy smiles finding their way onto their faces. He can see the pure joy radiating from their faces as they look over to see his thumbs up, indicating that Chuck is dead. Maybe they should be worried about Amara, maybe they should worry about where the essence of all the creatures who were meant to be housed in the Empty had gone to… but he can’t bring himself to care.

Let it be someone else’s problem for once.

The Winchesters are happy. He can see it written all over their faces. Their burdens are lifted and he can the yearning on their faces. Sam, to get home, maybe start something real with Eileen. And Dean, whose eyes keep drifting over to him… maybe he’s thinking the same thing as Sam.

This is it.

They’ve won the final battle.

It’s over at last.

All that’s left to do is carry on.


	32. My Wayward Son

A pointed finger tapping at his shoulder forces him to hear his gaze away from Cass. Cass’ gaze is as intense as always, but this time something feels different. This time Dean promises he isn’t just going to stare back stupefied.

To Dean’s surprise, it’s Billie at his side, her face set into a grim mask. “I can’t find them.” she says.

“What?” Dean demands, feeling the heady feeling of peace slip away from him once more. “You lost God?”

“I never had him to being with.” She snaps. “The Shadow was meant to take him to the Empty, neither of them are – ”

Dean sees the Shadow rise, it’s corpse jerking the pieces back into position. Chuck cracks his neck and crooks two fingers, taunting it.

“He must have escaped The Shadow’s hold.” Sam all but yells, his hands are on Dean’s shoulders, yanking him back even as Dean makes his first bound forward.

Sam knows where his mind immediately went to: Cass. He’s right _next to_ the being who wants him dead. The being, who, as far as Dean is concerned went AWOL.

“Cass.” He screams as Sam hauls him through the sand. “Cass!” Dean’s cry is enough to snap him out of his stupor. As the Shadow begins to morph back into shape, Cass makes a dash for the tree line. It’s still not far enough for Dean to breath easy, but it’s better than before.

Elevating himself on a pillar of black sludge, the Shadow cups his hands together, rubbing vigorously. Using that momentum, he fashions a great big ball of goop, cradling it. From the angle, it seems as though the ball is intended for Chuck.

It’s hand rears back, prepared to throw the ball straight at Chuck.

Instead, if finds a different target. Amara shrieks as the Shadow’s essence engulfs her whole, filtering into her mouth and coming out of her throat.

Dread crawls up Dean’s spine.

No.

They won. This can’t be happening.

Chuck smiles as a bright light sparks at the center of Amara’s chest, growing brighter and brighter by the second.

Pain spreads up his arm as Cass’ fingers clamp down on it. The relief of him making it to them is drowned out by his next words: “God has no power in the Empty. The Shadow told me that himself.”

He understands Cass' implication instantly.

It betrayed them. If Chuck has no power, then the only way it could have escaped is if the Shadow brought him back to this plane.

Dean feels the pull - the innate need to defend Amara, devouring his self-control. His legs move forward like a robot's, but Sam’s hands wrap around his torso, hauling him back.

The light grows brighter and Amara shrieks, scattering the seagulls in the area.

Jack steps closer to Billie who no long seems to be in control.

Jack.

They need to find a way to get the kid.

Dean’s heart lurches when Amara explodes. Chucks splatter over a radius as wide as a bus, only for the pieces to be devoured by the Shadow.

It grins then, moving over to embrace Chuck. “I missed you bro.” It says.

Chuck hugs him back with vigor.

“You did me a solid.” It says gesturing at the bodies strewn across the beach. “Now I’ll finally have some peace and quiet. No pesky flies disturbing me.”

Chuck smiles broadly. “I get to rule over all creation – maybe make a few upgrades. This batch had some rotten eggs if you know what I mean. And you – you’ll sleep for eons without being disturbed.” Chuck assures. “But what about that one?” His finger jerks to them – or, more specifically, to Cass.

The Shadow rubs his hands together. “Oh, he’s mine.” It growls sinisterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We thought Chuck and the Shadow were dead, but they were actually best bros, colluding with each other. Amara, is gone. Billie is off book and Jack is awfully quiet. Let see what happens next!


	33. There’ll Be Peace

“No!” Dean shouts, yanking out of Sam’s hold to get in front of Cass.

He slams into a bookshelf, sending the entire thing careening backwards.

On the floor, broken and splintered, is the ‘L’ that had stood above them throughout their stay here… in Death’s Reading Room.

Dean stares around in confusion. He can still feel the sand in his shoes and taste the salty air on his tongue.

Billie is the only one who can control of who gets to enter here. She must have brought him here.

“Billie?” he calls.

There’s no time for this. He has to get back before that thing tosses Cass into the Empty. Like it should have done with Chuck.

‘I missed you bro?’ Both of those ‘cosmic entities are proven dirt bags, he should have expected this. _Everyone_ should have expected this…

So why didn’t they?

Because everyone hates Chuck and they expect everyone else to feel the same? Because it hid Jack from Chuck? Because it saved him and didn’t collect on his deal? Because it was passive-aggressive enough to let his attitude slide? Because Billie gave it her stupid stamp of approval?

“Billie.” He hollers again, knocking down another shelf; one of the ‘J’s.

If he doesn’t get back there pronto, he’s gonna be giving her a lot of organizing to do.

“Billie! Show yourself! I’m done with your bullshit.” He growls furiously.

“Dean.”

Whirling, he has her pinned against a shelf immediately.

“Take me back.” He commands.

“Not yet.” She says. Well, at least her bravado is still intact.

“Your plan failed!” he shouts, wanting to get it through her head. Due to his volume, the words echo back, reinforcing his point. “You screwed the pooch and now Sam and Cass and Jack are all alone with those psychos.”

Billie just purses her lips, staring at him darkly.

“Take. Me. Back.” He hisses.

“Everything is going according to plan.” she assures.

Dean is flabbergasted. “Really? I must have lost my grip on reality back there somewhere.”

“Now isn’t the time for sarcasm.” She says. Oh, and she has some nerve acting like _Dean_ is the one who should calm down.

“Take me back.” He insists. “If we die, we’ll die together.”

“Everything is going according to plan.” She repeats.

“Stop saying that!” he snaps.

“Haven’t you forgotten something Dean?” She asks, her voice low and eerie.

Pausing, he wracks his mind. He tries to push past his worry, push past the hysterical side of him that just _needs_ to be there for Sam.

“Do you remember… back at the bunker…” Billie’s eyes drop, remorse showing in her eyes for what must be the first time ever. “Do you remember the plan?”

Get Michael, take the Mark and slam Chuck into oblivion.

He freezes…

The Mark.

“Amara is dead.” Billie continues. “The world is about to catch on fire as there’s no darkness to temper the light. Everything _will_ die.”

He swallows and looks away. Talking about taking the Mark and actually doing it… those are completely different things. But everything depends on him now. If he doesn’t act fast enough, everyone he loves will die.

When he closes his eyes to blink, the image of his mother burning on the roof of their childhood home lights up behind his eyelids. The image of Jess… Sam underneath her as her body was engulfed I flames taunts him.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” The words are forced and weak, but it’s enough for Billie.

“There’s just one thing we need to do first Dean.”

“No. We have to do it now.” He insists. “Back on the beach, they’re in danger.”

“Time is irrelevant here.” Billie says, her tone almost comforting. “I promise that when we get back, barely a second will have passed.”

Dean feels himself nod, despite his uncertainty. “Why didn’t that happen for Sam then?”

Billie presses her lips together once more. “Because I let it. Because I’ve read the books and there’s only one way we don’t all end up cooked.”

“So you risked my brother?” He demands.

“No.” She says easily. “I knew he would be fine. We just needed him to let Chuck think that he’s back. That he’s all powerful again.”

Billie’s heels click against the tiled floors as she leads him further into the maze. Dean allows his eyes to drift, he sees them pass ‘H’ then ‘I’ then finally, ‘G’, comes into view.

“God.” He whispers, realising her intent. “He has a book.”

“It’s his one weakness.” She murmurs, stroking along the spine of one of the notebooks. In one quick motion she whips it out from the shelf and places it in Dean’s hands.

“Read it, Dean Winchester, and welcome your role in his destruction.”


	34. When You Are Done

“This book… whatever you see in there.” She exhales. “It _must_ be done. Chuck’s weakness is his story. He never sticks to the plot which is why the books change so often. But it’s the mechanism of his demise.”

“So you’re saying that we need a plot twist that will shock _God_?” He asks in horror. “That’s a big ask. You know how many universes he’s created. For plot twists… you should have brought Sam. He’s read more.”

Billie smiles at that. “The biggest plot twist of all, is if there isn’t one.”

“So… let Chuck win?” He demands. This is too much. “Is that why you plucked me from the beach? To shock him?”

She shoots him a chastising glare. “No. By no plot twist, I mean setting the scale right where you unbalanced it.”

“You mean I have to die?” Dean swallows and looks down the dark halls. There’s no way to beat Death one on one. There’s no where he can run that she won’t find him.

“You take the Mark.”

“What use is the Mark of Cain?” He demands, sick and tired of this roundabout that they seem to be on.

“It’s not the Mark of Cain.”

That gives Dean pause.

“There’s a process… it can only be done in these rooms… by Death,” Billie whispers, her voice low and ominous. She gives him a pointed look.

From the first line, his soul shudders. Yet, he manages to make it to the end. A hollow end that leaves more questions than it answers. It’s a tumultuous end… and it’s coming sooner than he had expected.

Dean shudders as the book slips shut.

His eyes dart across to Billie who just watches him solemnly.

“This is –”

He breaks off, shaking his head in disbelief. “This can’t be how it goes down.”

“It is.”

“How can you say that when!-”

“Stop.” Billie says, quickly silencing him. “You can’t say it.”

“Chuck can’t hear us here.”

“You can’t say it. Because I cannot know it.”

“Why?” he asks, suspiciously.

“Come with me.”

Again, they traipse through the shelves, passing ‘E’ and finally coming to rest at ‘B.’

Yet another notebook appears in his grasp; Billie’s.

He cracks it open, and on the very last page, he sees it: _The Shadow casts a blow so devastating, that the spear is ripped from Billie’s grasp, only to be plunged into her chest mere seconds later._

“Why are you showing me this?” he gulps.

“Because you need to see it.”

“Why?” He stresses. “Why me?”

“I can only read until my death. I don’t know what comes next. All the books in the library stops upon Death’s demise; they will be reset when a new Death steps into the mantle.”

“Take the Mark, Dean, and you will be the one to _reap_ his destruction.”

…

Castiel freezes as the shadow narrows in on him. He feels Sam shift uneasily at his side. He’s smart. He knows full well that making it out alive is barely an option for them. His eyes search for Dean, wanting to stop him from doing something stupid – it’s almost as though he can feel the idea brewing inside Dean’s mind. But Dean isn’t even looking his way. His gaze is locked solely on the Shadow.

“Anything to add, Deano?” it chirps. “I’m getting your bae.”

“No, you’re not.” Dean says, but something is off. Out of the corner of his eyes, Castiel sees Billie. She explodes onto the beach, sending both the Shadow and Chuck tumbling back.

“There’s only one thing in life that’s certain… Death will reap you.”

What happens next is sudden. The Shadow casts a blow so devastating, that the spear is ripped from Billie’s grasp, only to be plunged into her chest mere seconds later. Her form crumbling to dust and interspersing with the sand on the beach.

“What’s with all the ‘death will reap you crap?’” Chuck asks with a cocky grin.

Castiel feels his blood go cold.

“Oh…” Dean says sinisterly. “Death _will_ reap you. The _right_ Death.”

The Shadow glares. “Do you_ really_ need this one?” he bemoans.

Chuck bobs his head from side to side. “Well… I _do_ like him. But his attitude of late has been shoddy. I still need Sam… we can make a new Dean.”

No. His hand shoots out, wanting to move him or shield him or anything to stop what he _knows_ comes next.

But all he can do is listen to Sam’s anguished cries as his brother evaporates before his eyes.


	35. Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in. This one is a wild ride.

“Dean!” Sam wails, clutching at the air where Dean stood just moments ago.

Castiel doesn’t know how to react so he just stands there, in utter defeat. It’s like he’s viewing the world past a glass wall; present but not really sentient. Dean is dead. There’s not even a body left for the funeral, presuming that any of them even live to have a funeral for Dean. Castiel feels his heart breaking as he stares into the empty space. Being in the Shadow’s grasp would be better than this.

“What’s that pesky cosmic rule?”

No.

It can’t be.

Castiel watched him die.

Yet, when he whorls around, his heart is filled with hope. And the universe doesn’t disappoint him this time.

“Dean. You’re alive.” He breathes, catching Sam’s attention.

“How?” Sam demands, barreling over to embrace Dean.

The commotion attracts Chuck and the Shadow. Castiel sees their faces change, morphing from confusion to indignation.

“You work quick. He looks exactly like the one you blasted away.” The Shadow comments.

This looks like Dean. It walks like Dean and talks like Dean. But does he have Dean’s memories and his innate sense of _right?_

Is this Dean?

A wink and a peck on the cheek tells him his answer.

With the bravado of a man who can’t die. Dean walks into the danger zone. “You remember that pesky cosmic rule I was talking about?”

“What are you yammering about?” the Shadow demands.

“I did- didn’t make him.” Chuck whispers, aghast.

“What happens when you kill Death?”

The next reaper who dies takes Death’s place.

“You killed Billie and someone else stepped in…”

“You.” Chuck hisses.

“You aren’t a reaper.” Sam blurts.

If Castiel could speak, he would second that.

Dean pulls back his sleeves, revealing a scar, much like the Mark of Cain, but in the shape of an ‘R’.

“I told you… the right Death will reap you.”

“But that’s not how the story goes!” Chuck exclaims, slamming his foot down petulantly, raising a plume of sand.

“That’s exactly what I was counting on.”

Chuck’s face hardens, his tantrum coming to an abrupt halt. “You have no plan. You have no army. You know _nothing. _You’ve been death for one second flat. My brother killed that other – much more experienced – Death with a strong breeze.”

“You’re only right about one of those things.” Dean says evenly, his voice laden with a confidence that they can’t begin to comprehend. “I have an army. I have a plan. And I’ve spent almost a thousand years in my Reading Room, honing _each_ and _every_ aspect of your annihilation.”

“A thousand years really helps one come to terms with things…” Castiel whorls at the sound of Jack’s voice.

He sounds firmer than he had last time. Surer.

“… like my powers.”

...

** One Thousand Years Ago in a Library Far, Far, Away **

Dean feels himself splinter apart, the mark automatically dragging him back to the reading room. He falls flat, on his hands and knees. His death, though jarring, was quick. He knew it was coming.

Dean presses a hand to his arm, covering the ‘R’ that rest there.

One way, Billie said. One way to win.

They needed to set things right where the story had run off-course. Dean always knew that this was what they needed to do. He recalls Billie’s words perfectly:

_“You have the right idea. My books say the only way this ends well is if you get in that box with Michael. Your execution leaves some to be desired though.”_

Getting in the box with Michael would mean him becoming Death. The Death who was meant to reap Chuck. But the Ma’lak Box ship had sailed. That’s what Billie meant about the wrong execution.

She turned Dean into a reaper, giving him the special mark of the order of death. Then, when she ultimately died, Dean would goad them until they killed him too. And then the cosmic law would do the rest…

He’s become what he was always meant to be; the thing that followed him all his life finally caught up, forcing him to take it’s form: Death.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean flops onto his back, feeling more than a little jumpy.

“Jack.” He croaks.

Jack crouches next to him, inspecting his arm. “The mark, it’s changing. You’re becoming Death.” His voice is neither happy nor sad.

Dean can relate, he knows what’s supposed to come next. He’s going to read. He’s going to read for as long as it takes to figure out how they win.

…

Dean looks up from his book to find Jack peering at him. “Have you figured it out?”

“I have.” He whispers.

It’s truly a curse, this position, this power, this all-knowing persona he has become. He knows this now, things about the universe, horrible things past and yet to pass. He know something so debilitating that it almost bring him to his knees. Yet his chains stop him from acting. He is Death now. And Death cannot afford to be selfish.

Dean’s read his own book, stopping right after Chuck’s defeat. But that hadn’t stopped him from spying the one line that threatened to bring everything crashing down.

Jack doesn’t know yet. He can’t know. Dean expects him to try to stop it.

“Belphegor’s alive.” He says instead. “And Rowena.”

Jack blinks in surprise. “Sam killed her.”

“And then she became the Queen of Hell.” Dean says drily. “Billie kept her away from this to keep her safe. We’re going to need her power.”

“And Belphegor?”

“He’s… in something called a haxon ring?” Dean says with a frown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *LOVED* writing this chapter!!!
> 
> Everything is wrapping up... things have come full circle in a way Chuck hadn't expected. Dean has at last become death and all the confusion about 'The Mark' has been cleared up.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! xoxo


	36. Don’t You Cry

Dean’s army consists of himself, Jack, Rowena, Belphegor and a bunch of reapers who grudgingly obey his every command.

Not too shabby.

Expect they hit Chuck with a whole lot more last time and it didn’t work. But last time, they neglected their greatest weapon: Jack.

He’s been honing his powers, slowly building himself up to a level that would make even Chuck shrink back in his presence. It’s slow and gruelling. He’s the one who has to keep everyone on track. He has to read and re-read the books to make sure that the future is intact. He has to boost the morale when everyone is tired of waiting and training.

Don’t they understand that _Dean _ is tired of waiting and training too? Apparently not.

Belphegor is the most ‘chill’ of their participants. You can usually find him hanging off of Dean’s coat-tails, trying to jab him into revealing something that he hadn’t read in the ‘papers.’ It’s amusing; a much needed break from the monotony of being Death.

Jack tells him that Belphegor is a shedim. One of the things Asmodeus was trying to release. He and his brethren are rumoured to cause unspeakable chaos. Their torture is supreme. Their strength matches that of the archangels and given that there are hundreds of them, Dean is counting that as a huge plus.

Belphegor enjoys telling him tales of how he tricked Castiel and snuck into the ring having soaked up enough powers to make him ten times stronger than any of his brethren.

His arsenal is becoming stronger by the hour. Yet Dean feels hollow.

He misses Sam and Cass and living in the bunker. He knows that he has to do this to save them, but as the weeks trickle by, Dean finds himself feeling caged.

So he escapes, for a few microseconds, once a week.

Dean escapes his duties and his armies to look at them.

Sam’s face is always twisted in agony, the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes. Cass though, he looks utterly isolated and defeated. Seeing them like this often hurts Dean more than it helps him. But it gives him the drive to carry on. He knows that if he doesn’t, if he gets one thing wrong, that they will be trapped this way, or in a worse state, forever.

His outings always make him think. As Death, he’s no longer inhibited by human things. He can finally recognise his tryst with Cass as what it was… desperation. He loved Cass, long before they ever kissed. It was why Cass’ death continued to devastate Dean when even his other close kin’s hadn’t. Why he always forgave him.

It’s ironic. Dean finally admits the truth and Cass is unable to hear it. The story of their lives. Forever drifting together, only to come so close to each other and be pushed away. But Dean would do it for him. He’d continue his push and pull game forever if need be, as long as Cass is the prize.

…

This is the last night before the ultimate battle. His troops are preparing, Jack is beyond ready. Both he and his powers have matured. He’s become a man in his own right. Powerful and dedicated. He will make a fine replacement for Chuck.

Rowena is ready with her spells. Everyone knows their role. Dean too, knows his role, he just can’t let himself forget it.

He gives his troops one last cursory look. They’re ready. They’ve rehearsed the plan hundreds of times. There’s no way this can go wrong.

This is it. After a thousand years in a world where time stands still, they make their stand with a definite victory in their future.

Yet, Dean feels hollow, defeated before they even begin. Maybe it’s because of what comes next, the thing that’s haunted him for a thousand years; a ghost that refused to find peace.

He shuts his eyes and finds himself on the beach once more.

He looks at Sam. “You’ll be free, Sammy.” He promises. “You can have your life.”

Hesitantly, he steps away, turning to Cass.

Neither of them can hear him, but this is more about his own piece of mind than anything.

“I’ve loved you for a thousand years. And I’ll love you for a thousand more.” Dean whispers as his fingers ghost over Cass’ cheek. “I’m sorry Cass.”

…

** Present **

Jack’s presence knocks the wind out of Castiel. “Jack.” He breathes, his hands cupping the boy’s face, just to make sure that he’s real.

“Hello dad.” Jack murmurs, ducking his head. “I’ve missed you.”

“So have I.” Cass whispers.

“Dean knows how to win this.” Jack states firmly. Castiel believes him.

He’s never seen Dean like this. Powerful, confident and glaring steadily at Chuck. If anyone can do it, Dean can.

“Has it really been a thousand years for you two?”

Jack just looks away. They’re different. Both Dean and Jack. Dean is more stoic and focused while Jack has matured emotionally. His heart feels heavy… he’s missed so much.

…

In the whorl wind of the battle, Dean has lost track of Sam and Cass. Amidst the chaos he searches for them. He sees Rowena casting her spell causing Chuck to fall to his knees. They need to end this soon. Amara is dead and without balance the world will soon darken. Chuck needs to die to bring about that balance.

Dean knows that Cass is safe for now because the Shadow has vanished.

Just like he knew it would.

Rowena drags Chuck down till he’s face first in the sand, Belphegor moves like lightening, slashing and tearing into Chuck. A thousand cuts would be less torture. Now for the final blow. Jack will deal it, Jack will use his power to load so much energy into Chuck’s cells that he implodes into himself, collapsing into a nothingness.

And Dean will reap him, his essence to be destroyed so that no part of him can torment them again.

It takes but a second to destroy Chuck completely. It feels oddly cathartic, yet Dean can’t shake the sorrow that follows him. Despite the happy cries of those around him, he feels isolated, trapped on an island of woe.

He’s cursed with knowledge.

Dean knows what comes next. Who the next person he’ll be forced to ferry to the afterlife will be.

The Shadow appears with a pop, stunning all those on the beach. Eyes turn to him, searching for direction – Rowena, Jack, Cass, Sam. But Dean has nothing to offer them but death, so he remains silent, letting the events play out as they should even as he shreds his heart.

The Shadow approaches Castiel stealthily, a wicked grin stretching across it’s distorted features.

“You’re happy.” It growls. “And now I will take you.”

“Dean?” Sam is at his side, his eyes darting to and fro with worry. His piercing gaze is filled with expectation. Expectation that Dean _do_ something.

But he can’t. It’s not written.

He clenches his arms and grits his teeth as the creature sizes Cass up.

When it’s obvious that Dean isn’t about to intervene, Sam steps forward, away from his side. “If you take him we will call him again. He’ll be awake. You won’t have that peaceful slumber that you so desire.”

The Shadow seems to consider this, his fingers stilling just over Cass’ face.

Despite knowing how futile Sam’s efforts are, Dean still feels the tug of hope in his chest. He supposes that some things are hard to kill.

“That would be annoying.” It says pursing it’s lips. “But you’re assuming I’m going to dump him in the Empty. That would be too easy.”

Dread stills his heart.

No.

The Shadow waves his hands with flourish, producing a clear crystalline rock about the size of Sam’s face.

Without sparing a moment, the cosmic entity presses the crystal to Cass’ cheek. An ethereal blue light emanates as Cass gets sucked in. Dean’s hand reaches out, seconds too late.

The Shadow drops the crystal to the ground, the weight kicks up a plume of sand. It grins smugly at Dean.

It knows that it’s won.

Dean should know what comes next but he doesn’t. He might not have read his book all the way to the end, but there’s one thing that he knows for sure.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to share the ending with you guys!


	37. No More

## No More

“No.” Dean whispers, cradling the rock. Every so often he sees a flash of blue. Cass is alive in here, somehow some way. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He growls.

“You were supposed to lock him in the Empty.” Where Dean – Death – could still _visit_ him.

“Is that what your little book said?” it taunts.

Dean clenches his jaw. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” It taunts. “I just figured I’d take a page out of your book.” He wiggles his fingers obscenely. “Plot-twist… ta da!”

“But you’re in the books.” Dean argues.

The Shadow ‘tuts’ him. “Oh Dean.” He coos. “I’ve been asleep a long while. By the time my brother created you play things I was but a distant memory. Amara’s caging was fresh compared to me. Chuck forgot all about me.” He pouts dramatically. “It worked out though. He forgot to write me into the fabric of this universe. No fabric, no destiny.”

Dean swallows. It suddenly makes sense. Why he can deviate from the books… when no one else can.

“Those books can’t bind me. I’m free.” He growls. “And with my freedom I want to be left alone.”

“Like hell.” Dean hisses. “Bring him back and then we can talk.”

At the commotion Jack rushes over. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sam whispering to him. Good. Maybe the kid can stop this.

The thing cocks it’s head. “No.” it says slowly. “A deal is a deal. I never said I’d take him to the Empty. In a way…” he gestures to the crystal in Dean’s hands. “… this is worse. Trapped alone in a strange place. He’ll go crazy in there…”

“I’ll save him.”

“Oh.” It smiles sympathetically at him. “This is a special crystal. What goes in never comes out.”

“There’s always a way.” Sam says harshly.

“Not this time.” The Shadow winks at Jack. “Not even you can fix this little one.”

The Shadow’s smug grin breaks Dean’s control. The world falls away, he’s bone tired but his anger drives it all away. Damn the universe, screw the balance… this is Cass. He slams the crystal into Sam’s hands and in the same motion summons his scythe. He presses it against the Shadow’s neck, digging it lightly against the skin.

“Bring him back.” Dean growls. “Or you die.”

It laughs in his face. “Ohh scary.” It taunts.

Dean’s expression hardens. “Don’t try me.”

“It’s you who shouldn’t try me.” it retorts. “Dear Castiel’s essence is still alive in there but the crystal is powered by my life-force. If I die, he dies. And none of this ‘going gently into that good night’ crap. This death will be painful. His atoms will die one by one, slowly, excruciatingly, he will dissolve into nothing.”

“Why?” is all Dean can manage as he stumbles away from the being. He stows his scythe knowing that it won’t help him here.

“Where have you been?!” it shrieks. “I want to sleep! I want to sleep! Peace and quiet! What a concept people.”

Dean stands there in dumbfounded silence. All this for more sleep after millennia of hibernation.

“Don’t bother me.” It snaps.

Dean doesn’t even have the chance to reply before it vanishes, carrying all hope with it.

…

As the Shadow leaves, so does the last of Dean’s will power. He drops to his knees, burying his head in his arms. They’ve won. The earth is saved… but at what cost?

The sand feels like gravel under his knees. He can feel Sam’s hand on his shoulder; that special brotherly touch that usually makes him see light even in the darkest of situations.

Every so often the crystal turns a bright blue, flashing in Sam’s grip. It just sickens Dean further.

“Can I?” He reaches out and Sam hands him the crystal carefully.

“Dean…” Sam trails off. He doesn’t know what to say. The Shadow was _crystal_ clear.

Sam turns to Rowena then, his hand still squeezing his shoulder tightly. It feels like the only thing keeping Dean from shattering to pieces as he stares at the crystal. The flashes of blue are happening less and less.

“Do you have a spell-”

She laughs, cutting him off. “A spell? To counteract warding put in place God’s older brother?”

Her amusement is tampered as Sam continues to glare stonily at her. “At least take a look.” He beseeches.

Sighing deeply Rowena makes her way over. She crouches before of him and looks him over. Whatever she sees softens her expression. “Oh, my poor boy.” She croons, stroking his face lightly. “Let me have a look.”

Dean is reluctant to hand over the crystal but this is their only chance.

With a nod she moves a few feet away, crossing her legs in the sand. Her fingers glow with magic as she probes the crystal.

Forcing himself to his feet, Dean faces Sam, his face twisted with pain. “I loved him, Sammy.” Dean whispers before pressing his face into his brother’s shoulder. “I was in love with him and I never told him.” Dean wails a wave of remorse overwhelming him.

Sam remains silent, letting him get it out, because heaven knows he _needs_ to.

“I should have… I should have seized the moment. I shouldn’t have let him go into battle with even the slightest doubt. Now I’ll never see him again.”

“No.” Jack says his voice booming loudly. “You _will_ never see him again.”

“Jack I –”

Jack smiles slightly at him. “It’s okay Dean. He knew. He suspected it for some time. To know that you loved him back, in any way at all, was something he cherished.”

Though Jack’s intent was to make him feel better, his words have the opposite effect. They make him yearn… for the life he could have had with Cass now that he’s finally come to terms with his feeling… for every beautiful moment they could have had together.

“What goes in can never come out.” Jack parrots the Shadow’s initial sneer. “Rowena can’t fix this. I can’t fix it either.”

“Aye.” Rowena says holding the stone out with a sad look. “This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s magic… but it’s _old._ I don’t even know how to read it properly.”

“What goes in can never come out.” Dean whispers, taking a step back. “Nothing can come out. But maybe we can send something in.”

Sam frowns. “What do you want to send?”

“Me.” Dean says.

Sam swallows in shock.

“Sam I love him.” Dean pleads. “I – if I can do this then – maybe we can be together. Maybe we can could something in there.”

“Or you could die.” Sam returns.

“I’m as good as dead without him!” Dean takes a breath. “I had to spend a thousand years without him. I don’t want to wait any longer. But I won’t go if you need me.”

For a long time, Sam just looks at him before nodding crisply once. “I’ve had you my entire life, Dean. I want you to stay… but I don’t need you. You’ve taught me everything. You’ve given me _everything_. I want you to do this. I want you to be happy.”

Dean’s eyes water. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be happy too. With Eileen. We can have the big family I always wanted… and I’ll keep the crystal safe so you don’t have to worry about where it’ll end up.” Sam says in a rush.

“I know.”

“Do you really want us to send you in?”

Dean gives Sam one last look before replying, “Yes.”

Sam’s hand latches onto his wrist. “Wait.” He breathes harshly, his eyes filling with tears.

“One last chick-flick moment?” Dean asks, his own voice wavering. Leaving Sam like this will be the hardest thing he’ll ever have to do.

“Damn it Dean.” He hisses before crushing his brother against him.

Dean hugs him back just as fiercely, pressing a kiss to his ear as he pulls away. “See ya Sammy.”

“Go gett’em tiger.”

Dean gives him a cheeky smile and a wink before turning to Rowena. The last Sam sees of his brother is a bright flash of green as the stone sucks him in.

“It’s done.” Rowena says sombrely, pressing the crystal into his trembling hands.

“Thank you.” he mumbles, clutching the object tightly. Sam stares at it intently, praying that he gets some sign that Dean is okay. That he wasn’t obliterated.

The stone pulses a cheerful blue and mere seconds later shifts to a rich emerald green colour.

They’re together.

Sam presses his eyes shut finally allowing his tears to escape… tears of joy for his brother had finally found happiness and tears of loneliness because Sam doesn’t know how to live in a world without Dean to guide him.


	38. The Rapture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is... the last chapter. I debated over the name for a long time but I think 'The Rapture' is fitting.

Dean feels his life force being ripped out of him. It’s agonising and raw and he wants to scream but there isn’t enough energy left to even move his tongue. Dean hopes he’s doing the right thing. That Sam will be okay… that he won’t die before seeing Cass.

The pain he feels dissipates in a second, and Dean finds himself plunged into something completely white. So white his eyes can barely comprehend it.

No.

He doesn’t have eyes. He doesn’t have a body.

Not anymore.

Dean can _feel_ himself more than anything. Despite knowing where he is; what contains him, he feels completely weightless. Free from debilitating pain and endless doubt.

Something passes in front of him in a blur.

_Dean?_

Whatever it is, sounds peculiar, in an enticing sort of way.

The thing brushes past him again, sending tingles racing through his being.

He feels his essence flutter with hope. Years and years in each other’s presence have made them attuned to each other. As it brushes by once more, Dean is absolutely certain he knows who it is. There’s only one person in the universe who would feel so familiar in this land of oddities. One person with the power to tug at his very essence. One person who he shares a profound bond with.

_Cass?_

In a rush Cass envelops him and the feeling is euphoric. It feels as though his essence is mixing with Dean.

_I love you._ Dean says, not able to keep the words inside any longer.

Cass’ shudder ripples through him.

_I love you, Dean._ Cass says, though with him so close, it feels like he’s screaming it; proclaiming it. _I can’t believe you’re here._

Laughter rolls through him. _I just wish we had something in here… even something stupid… like a rock._

_A rock?_ Cass is dubious.

_I’d have fun throwing it at you for the next couple centuries._

But even if they never find that rock, even if it’s the two of them in here, for an eternity, Dean won’t care. All that matters is that they’re together. That they can make something beautiful together.

_Dean!_ Cass’ shock is palpable and Dean understands why.

There’s something here that wasn’t before. In their abyss of white, lies a singular, oval shaped rock. It’s almost as though they wished it into existence.

…

Sam is at the end of his rope as stares down at the manual in front of him. With a huff, he tosses the piece of wood away. From across the room, Eileen laughs at him, shaking her head as she retrieves the plank and holds it out to him. Annoyed, Sam takes it and stares at the diagram once again.

“I don’t understand why this is so complicated.” Sam says, tilting his head up so Eileen gets a clear view of his lips.

“It’s a crib Sam.” She signs back. “Not a space ship.”

Sam chuckles, “I guess baby Dean deserves the best.”

Choosing to name his first born Dean hadn’t been an easy decision. At first, when Eileen brought it up, Sam had been completely against it, Dean’s loss still too fresh in his mind to even consider it. Sam had no idea what to do with the crystal that swallowed his brother and best friend. He kept it at his bedside for weeks, the flashes of blue and green would wake him up in the middle of the night, sometimes it would make him cry, sometimes it would make him smile.

Sam always keeps in somewhere he can see. His big brother would always have a place in his life, and an angel will keep watch over his baby.

So Sam placed the crystal at the helm of his house, right over the fireplace. He’d take solace in knowing that Dean and Cass are together while he sits on the couch or has a beer. They’ll forever remain part of his life, chasing away the bad memories and reassuring him that it’s _okay_ for him to be happy and have this life.

The mantle place was the best spot, really. Sometimes the crystal would burn brighter than the fireplace below it, Dean and Castiel’s love outshining the brightest of flames, just as it had in real life. Those times, Sam likes to sit back and enjoy the lights.

When Sam’s son is born, he will get to live in the beautiful world that they worked so hard to save and bask in these moments of rapture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> They all got their happily ever afters, in a sort of bittersweet way. At least both brothers know that the other is happy and thriving. The world is saved and Sam is going to be a father and have his apple pie life. Dean and Cass are in the crystal, we've shown that they can 'create things' so they can make a world that's 'all their own.' The possibilities are endless.
> 
> Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it's conclusion 
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone else think that episode could have almost been season finale???
> 
> Also, let's talk. I get why Dean is acting the way he is and I also get why Cass is leaving. I just don't think it's all Dean's fault (and I don't get all the hate he's getting). I'm just glad that they still have lots of time to fix things ... or die... whichever comes first I guess.
> 
> What do you guys think?


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